Crucible - Super Weapon or Trap?
by BadLoki
Summary: What if a certain someone that had been monitoring the Mass Effect reality had finally had enough? Mostly Mass Effect with a dash of Trek.
1. 01 - Crucible

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Chapter 01 - Crucible 

Commander John Shepard stared in silence at the apparition before him - a small glowing figure, taking the appearance of a child. A child which had just bluntly informed him that he now had the choice of destroying all synthetic life, become the new controller of the reapers, or somehow merging all life in the galaxy into a new hybrid life form.

"Choose. You Must Choose, there is no other path" stated the glowing child figure, as the combined Council, Quarian and Geth fleets fought desperately against the massive Reaper Dreadnoughts surrounding Earth and the Citadel.

So this was it? This was what it came down to? Years of pain, death and terror for millions, building a galaxy wide alliance (after surviving death itself) to fight the Reapers, only for some sort of alleged Super-AI holographic projection to claim the Crucible / Catalyst super-weapon could somehow perform galactic space magic, and these were his only options? Oh, and of course, he would have to die to make any of them work?

"Oh yes, choose! of COURSE there is no other path, no other option, you must believe and trust that, that...THING"

A second voice interrupted Shepherds thoughts, he lifted his eyes to focus on the source of the sarcastic and disgusted statement. An apparently middle aged human male, taller than Shepard, clad in a burgundy and black uniform of some type was stalking down the walkway, Shepherd realised the man wasn't finished talking and was heading directly towards him - and the glowing child thing was recoiling from the man as he approached.

"Normally I wouldn't bother with this reality, but you humans have such potential for improvement, and for FUN, and watching these machines butcher the galaxy again is getting rather dull. I really can't interfere too much, the rest of the continuum may get a bit upset, reality might collapse, that sort of thing, but that has not stopped me before and - I'm sorry, too fast?" The man looked around, apparently noticed the vast space battle outside for the first time and stared at the devastation taking place. "Oh no, that won't do at all", clicked his fingers - and time slammed to a halt.

Shepherd was definitely struggling to keep up with recent events, but with the last action, his jaw dropped and ice crawled along his veins. What the hell just happened? Who the hell was this man? Was he a man? Was he...even human?"

"Q. You can call me Q. No, not human, you can probably think of me as a god. Not THE god, well, probaby not anyway. Let me just fix that hole there, stop you leaking everywhere. And no, not reading your mind, just the 99.999999% most likely thoughts at this time. Bit of shock, yes, I get that a lot. Mostly." The man - Q? - looked critically at Shepherds side and he realised the pain had stopped.

"Now, where was I? Yes, yes, you will have a thousand questions, none of which I'm going to answer. Well, maybe one. Or two. I am a Pan-Dimensional being, pretty much eternal and all powerful. We normally don't interfere with events, but one aspect we do monitor is the development of life in the realities and how it evolves and progresses..."

Q turned and stabbed his finger at the glowing child, and then at the space battle frozen in time outside.

"This little abomination of an AI has been butchering civilisations in your reality for several hundred million years, so they can be 'preserved' as reapers, effectively stagnating their own evolution, and locking in the evolutionary path of any successor civilisations. A cycle they have repeated time and time again."

Q then turned back to Shepherd and waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the machinery the glowing child had been urging Shepard to interact with.

"And this choice the AI is giving you? Won't do anything. They were just learning from you, manipulating you, educating themselves so they can bait the trap better next time. They would probably skip a cycle this time, until they are sure they have hunted down every bit of evidence of their existence, repaired the keepers, and harvested everything they need - and then replace the collectors with one of the current species. Probably yours."

Shepard's mouth closed as he absorbed this information and his face tightened as a thunderous rage filled him, the hand holding his Carnifex pistol waved at the AI Child and Q.

"Everything we have done will have been for nothing? The Crucible was worthless? Earth and Humanity are not only doomed, but are going to probably be replacement Collectors?! WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT?!"

"Absolutely. And waving a gun at me isn't generally a good idea. Actually, it's a terrible idea, but as you can't hurt me with that, or even with, well...anything, I'll ignore your rudeness. This time."

Q dropped his head slightly forward and pinched his forehead "If I Wasn't Q, I am sure I would be getting a headache around now. Maybe Q was right, and I shouldn't be doing this...no, no, no. She might be Q's mother, but I am certainly not giving her the satisfaction of being more right than me". Q's head popped up and looked slightly flustered at Shepherd.  
"Sorry, woolgathering, where were we - oh yes, making things right. Well, not right. Less wrong? Give you guys a chance, a real chance to not just stand against the Reapers, but to remove their stranglehold on the evolution of this reality".

Shepherds blood pressure eased off a little, and his pistol hand dropped back to his side. He stared at Q for a second before he mirthlessly chuckled. "Sure, but can you at least explain a little of what you intend to do before clicking your fingers and sending me off to visit the great and wonderful OZ in his emerald city?".

Q blinked "What? Oh no, wouldn't be any point sending you there and why are you staring at me like that again? Pan-dimensional? Infinite realities? Of course it exists somewhere" Q waved a hand and four comfortable seats appeared, three of which were arranged in a semi circle to face the fourth, which Q gently lowered himself into "please, take a seat".

Shepherd rubbed his face, decided to take this latest display of power at face value - Q had apparently stopped time, so hey, creating a few chairs out of thin air was pretty easy in comparison, right? - and took the middle of the three seats, and with a quick glance at the battle to reassure himself that yes, apparently time was still stationary, allowed himself to relax back into it. A side table appeared next to him with what looked like a glass and jug of water, and a plate of cookies. Tearing his gaze away from the plate, he instead turned it to Q, who, with his elbows resting on his knees and hands resting together in a steeple, was leaning forward eagerly.

"As a Q, I can do pretty much anything. But if I do too much, I can destroy the fabric of a reality, or potentially worse, turn it into just a plaything. Which would be pretty bad for those who lived in that reality. I want to change things just enough, so that the current races - Human, Asari, and the rest of you, will get the chance for an honest fight against the Reapers - if you win, if you can stomp them hard enough, you will pretty much be able to develop as you want"

Q paused, considering his next words "Sure, that means all of the surviving races will then have the opportunity to turn on and slaughter the other races, or turn inwards on yourselves, or make your own version of the Reapers maybe fifty thousand years in your future, but that will be the point"

Q smiled and nodded "Once you can get rid of the Reapers, your races future and evolution and development will be up to yourselves, not dictated by genocidal genetic harvesting machines."

Q leaned back and stared at the frozen AI Child for a few seconds before turning back to Shepard.

"John, you did a fantastic job. With the time limits and handicaps you and the others had to deal with, the probability of it being bettered in a straight rerun are minimal. The outcome would be very similar, which is why we are going to the root of the problem. You have knowledge of the Protheans in that skull of yours, and the Reapers. You have the knowledge of a number of dirty little secrets of the council races. You know how big the Reaper fleet is, about the Collectors, about Mars, about the Citadel, the Alpha relay...a huge amount of knowledge."

Q tilted his head slightly and asked a question "John - by the way you don't mind me calling you John do you? John, if you were returned back in time, say...4 years back. Think you could make a difference?".

Shepherd's mouth opened with the obvious answer, then paused, revised his answer, and responded - "sure, I could save more lives - Nihlus for example, record everything we see and grab physical evidence to present as proof of the Reapers, hell, even give the Cerberus base locations to the alliance and lead an assault on the Shadow Broker, but none of it would be enough, would it?"

Q nodded. And flashed a quick smirk at Shepard "Exactly. And even if you had every ship in the Citadel and Terminus regions available, think you could take the Reaper fleet? Of course not. Their armour and weapons are too much for your current ships designs. So you need better ships. More ships. Definitely more powerful than what you have. Different weapons maybe? And what about combating indoctrination? What are your thoughts on that - and please, don't feel rushed. This second of time will last as long as I say a second lasts...?"

John picked up the glass and took a long drink, the first in hours he realised. Actually, he suddenly realised, considering he had been fighting non-stop for several hours, smashed into the ground by some sort of Reaper beam, been forced to shoot the man he likened to a father and then sat with him as he died and eventually meeting two god-like entities, why did he feel surprisingly refreshed, healthy and, well - sane? He shot a questioning glance at Q, who nodded.

"Yes, I healed your physical damage, and I have also helped to cushion your mind from the recent reality shocks. Otherwise, you might have, well, snapped. The human mind is both a fragile and infinitely resilient instrument, quite the paradox. I can also assure you that there is zero evidence you have been indoctrinated by the Reapers, on any level, which is impressive."

Shepherd nodded, the Prothean beacon at the Asari temple had confirmed he was free of any influence at that time, it had certainly reacted to the arrival of Leng. Just like Vigil on Ilos had been able to apparently identify none of his team as indoctrinated or synthetic. Which meant that...

"Which means that it is possible on some level to detect indoctrination, if we can work out how that is done, we can incorporate sensors into security choke points, even maybe remote or handheld scanners...and if you can detect something, then maybe you can test what shields against it, but that would mean.."

Q watched Shepherd s reaction carefully "would mean finding an indoctrination source, and deliberately exposing your test subjects to it - a little like what Saren was doing"?

Shepherds hand squeezed on the glass, shattering it into fragments which cut into his flesh "I. AM. NOT. SAREN."

Q nodded. "No, I suppose you aren't" and replaced the shattered glass, healing Shepard's hand. "But it is an unpleasant reality you will have to examine. Unless you can find the information you need elsewhere, Saren's methods might be the only available avenue of research to determine appropriate countermeasures - for now though, seeing as you appear to be getting ready to do something monumentally foolish with that gun, let us move on..."

Q waited a moment for Shepherd to regain his equilibrium, then continued to talk "What I am proposing, is to send you back into the past. With your current knowledge, and with maybe a blank hole or two also filled in. But it won't be anywhere near as 'simple' as you might think. I am going to hurl you back 200 years into the past, at the dawn of humanity's journey to the stars, and you will have help. A couple of frie...well not friends. At least one would be. The other, not so much."

Q waved his hand and the seats on either side of Shepard were suddenly occupied, to his left - his friend, his mentor - Anderson.

And on his right, Jack Harper - The Illusive Man.


	2. 02 - Out of Time

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!  
Partial lyrics for Immigrant song are owned by Led Zepplin, reproduced here again for entertainment only.

Author Note - I wrote the initial chapter years ago when I had initially finished good old ME3 and was in absolute shock at the ending. Decided to tidy up that initial chapter and post it on FFnet to see how it would be received, and seems to have gotten a positive response. I'll try knocking out some more of the story - be warned, this is my first fanfic. Ever.

Chapter 02 - Out of time.

Shepard felt a surge of conflicting emotions and brain freezing mental shock for the first time since the being known as 'Q' had made his appearance. Joy that Anderson - Alive! - was sat on his left. And an equally strong flood of anger and hate for the pathetic piece of human excrement on his right.

Uttering a low growl, his hand dropped to his side to clench the grip of his Carnifex, tensing in motion to draw it up and put Harper back into his grave.

"Woah, woah woah - timeout there tiger!" exclaimed Q, waving his hands at Shepard in a 'calm down' waving motion. "I didn't jump start these two back into your reality just for you to have the pleasure of shooting one of them again!"

Shepard felt the emotions roaring through his mind swiftly turn...cool? Clear? Difficult to describe, still there, but walled off, turned crystal and cold. He slumped back into the chair, taking a deep breath.

Raising his head, he looked at Q, and smiled. "Please, tell me I heard you right. You brought Anderson back? He's...okay?"

Q looked at Shepard with a slight smirk to his features "what would be the point of giving you a couple of very experienced helpers in such a monumentally complicated and difficult task - if they were corpses?"

Shepard twisted to his left - Anderson was stationary, face blank, eyes...lifeless? "Oh don't worry", Q said, "they are BOTH fine. I have just paused them until we can get you calmed down. Now - even though you are all outside of your reality's time at this point, I can't keep this up forever. SOMEONE *Shudder* is going to notice at some point, and I'll be in trouble. Again. We need to speed this up - ready?".

Shepard, still engulfed in his crystal calm, nodded. Paused, and looked at Jack Harper on his right. "You realise I'm going to still want to shoot him, repeatedly, for everything he did?".

Q nodded. "Absolutely, though I strongly recommend - STRONGLY recommend - that you don't. Very well. Wake up time."

Both Harper and Anderson took a shuddering deep breath.

"John!"

"Shepard."

"Harper?!"

"Anderson."

"What the F..."

"ENOUGH. And...memory updates added. Wow, that looked like it hurt. Like, a LOT. Everyone up to speed?"

Harper and Anderson both sat clutching their heads in agony. Shepard felt like a ice pick made of acid had been driven through his eye and deeeeeeep into his brain. Considering the experiences from the last five years, with various Prothean, Reaper, Geth and Asari mental encounters, he rated it a five...maybe six on his top ten worst brain meltings. Ouch.

"Okay" said Q "You all have a couple of extra mental boxes now - one for each of you, pertinent history, experiences, justifications, knowledge, etc that the other two have. No actual indoctrination" Q looked at Harper in particular, "but the experience of it, from both Jack and John".

Q flicked a glance at his naked wrist, where a watch would possibly normally be strapped. He gulped.

"We are Out of Time. You are going back, together, 200 years. You have identities already established. You have extended life, same as an Asari. You have knowledge, including hidden knowledge of the Reaper's own history. Do yourselves and the galaxy a favour - wallow into the local culture for a couple of years. LEARN. Then go change the future..."

Q pointed to the glowing Starchild and the still frozen space battle outside "Or in 200 years, you will be back here - and this time, I won't be around. Good Luck."

Blink.

One second, all three were sitting in chairs on the Crucible, the next they were...sitting on chairs facing each other, clean, dressed in some sort of old style casual clothing, around a small glass topped...patio table? Outside a large home, with paving stones underfoot and a green expanse of lawn stretching behind them, and a wonderfully blue sky above...clean air, warm sun, gravity that was. Just. RIGHT.

Earth. Home. Untouched by war and devastation. A new beginning.

A fragile silence hung over the trio. In the distance, shouting and laughing could be heard, the sound of children playing. There was a faint wailing sound which set all three on edge, which quickly drew closer, and then words could be heard:

"come from the land of the ice and snow...hammer of the gods will drive our ships...fight the horde...crying - Valhalla I am coming..." before the car drove out of hearing range.

There was a snort from the no-longer Illusive man as he identified it.

"Appropriate for our return, I wonder if our benefactor arranged it as a hopeful farewell?"

Silence again. Then Shepard and Anderson both lunged forward and drove a fist into the face of Jack Harper, throwing him out of his chair and onto his back on the ground.

Jack groaned, and spat a mouthful of blood from his split lip to his side, propped himself on his elbows and glared at the other two.

"In light of everything I have now had rammed into my mind and everything we experienced, I'll allow that free shot gentlemen, and I'll apologize for the actions of my - previous? - future? self. DON'T think for a second I will allow you another one."

Levering himself back into his chair, carefully, whilst keeping an eye on his fellow travelers, he continued to speak.

"Do we know where we are? When we are? WHO we are? And do we know WHAT we are going to do? Think and share what you know, we could have our families about to walk out of this house and join us any second".

Shepard and Anderson looked at each other. "As much as I despise the man and what he stood for, he's right" spoke Anderson. Shepard nodded, and sat back into his chair, rubbing his sore knuckles thoughtfully. Then his eyes widened, he looked at Anderson, and both looked over at Jack's face. Anderson pointed his fingers at Jack and his bloodied face and started to laugh.

"I just flattened my boss!"  
"Me too! Holy Shit!"

Jack looked thoughtfully at the pair "I'll be sure to remember that during your next pay negotiation". Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a clean cloth which he folded and held against his split lip.

Anderson stood and stretched, casually glancing through the nearby window and over the fences surrounding the garden area.

"Let's take this inside...sir. We have a lot to cover, some of it too...confidential for anyone to potentially overhear. If you could follow me? You too, ummm...John".

With nods to each other, all three moved inside the house, through a very old fashioned looking kitchen into an equally old fashioned living room. Anderson made a beeline straight for a cabinet, withdrawing three glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He quickly poured a measure in each and handed them out.

Shepard took a thoughtful sip. "So the year is currently, what? 1986? We are in the US. We all work for the same company - Cerberus Industries? Jack founded and owns it. I'm an engineer, ex-military, head of the Cerberus R&D division. Anderson is ex-military, head of Cerberus Security? and Jack is CEO and head of Cerberus Logistics?"

Jack nodded and took a sip of his own drink. "Correct. And don't think the irony of the three headed company escapes me. Though it will make it easier if someone overhears us making reference to future Cerberus. Now, we are all single, so no partners and no family nearby for us to make mistakes with. We are currently sitting in Anderson's home, going to "have some beers and watch the game" which is not unusual, as we all have worked well together now for...?"

Anderson took up the thread "Seven years. I'm ex-navy, worked with a number of special force groups, made a lot of contacts. Left as soon as my term was up, mostly because Jack convinced me he needed me. Cerberus Security does private security for companies, and mercenary work. And...crime? Jack, I appear to have a number of operations ongoing that you authorised that are some pretty nasty stuff?"

Jack ran through his new "false" memories. "Oh. Yes, the South American drug trade. We need to cover that later. Now, it's the weekend, so we have time to talk over everything. And this place is free of any bugs and surveillance that we know of. Actually I have that on VERY good authority. The highest as far as we three are concerned?"

Anderson and Shepard nodded. Shepard then frowned. "So I'm the head of R&D? Some sort of think-out-the-box engineering genius? And we are working on communications and electronics, computers also. And weapon systems. And Power generation. And...is there anything we are NOT working on?! And I have a staff of over two hundred. And most of these are concepts only, some theoretical items. Very theoretical. And the government keeps trying to engage us in work for DARPA. And something called Star Wars?"

Jack pulled a face at the last. "Orbital weapon platforms, ground based anti missile systems. Theoretically possible but incredibly expensive. Could be a method of sucking up money fast, would also mean the government would be able to sink it's claws into us very quickly. Do too well with it, and we risk nuclear war with Russia."

Anderson knocked back his drink, and reached for the bottle to pour another. "You know" he rumbled, "it's just hitting me. We escaped the Reapers wiping everything out, or at least delayed it. Everyone is still out there, waiting to be discovered again. We know where the good stuff is. We know some places to avoid. Some places that need to be nuked from orbit, regardless of what The Council might think."

"Hell yeah" chimed in Shepard, also knocking his drink back. "The Quarians have been kicked out of their system for only about one hundred years at this point. Give them a planet, talk to the Geth, we could start bringing things together so much earlier. Who knows what other races might be out there that we could recruit."

He paused. "Or, we could screw this up and wipe out our own species. Cause the death of everything again. Hell, didn't we already wipe everything out by coming back here, maybe? And just by being here, some people and events are just not going to be happening again. No Miranda. No Ash."

Jack also finished off his drink, and poured himself and Shepard a fresh drink each. "I think, well. I think we have an awful lot to talk about and start planning, or at least get some idea on HOW we want to proceed."

He stared at his glass in his hand, and took another swallow of the liquid inside, feeling it burn his throat on the way down. "And I think it's damned good to be alive. The future awaits. I'm not eager to die again anytime soon, that's for sure."

Anderson nodded. "On that, we definitely agree. This is going to be a long weekend. Shepard, grab some paper and pens, we've got a lot of work to do".


	3. 03 - Plan for the future

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Authors Note - Two options now - I can timeline the development, or we can go by Chapter, let me know in the reviews if you have a preference. And yes, this will develop into a "Grrrr Humanity stomp" story if I can get that far, as the Systems Alliance shown in ME? In no way could I ever see that existing without 99% of the human race being on medication.

Chapter 03 - Plan for the future.

One very interesting advantage the trio quickly realised they had, was access to the "intra-net" as it was quickly labelled by Shepard. A huge amount of information had been loaded inside the minds of each of them - both future and current knowledge. They could only "see" the tiniest fraction of information, but they could effectively run a search engine to see what information they had on particular items.

A brief history of their current location in the timeline revealed no major differences they could see compared to their memories from the future. They were nearly at the end of the Cold War. Manned space flight and installations were all local to Earth-space, Luna being the furthest anyone had traveled.

The worlds energy supplies were still massively dependent on Oil, Gas and Coal, with nuclear fission playing a poor fourth. Computer technology on a commercial level was in it's infancy, and what would become the Internet was restricted to very limited networks at this stage.

It was perfect.

The key to quickly building humanity up was cheap power. Fusion Reactors were something that humanity had developed independently long before the Prothean ruins were found on Mars. Luna had fuel in the form of helium-3, and the gas giants - both Saturn and Jupiter - had vast quantities of the fuel, which would be accessible quickly. Fusion reactors, both based on Earth for local power, and on orbiting infrastructure and starships would be the key to early expansion.

To control these reactors, and the various mining / construction infrastructures and starships, not to mention pretty much every other supporting aspect, would require powerful computers. Enter Shepard and his reputation of creating 'genius, in a crazy way' engineering marvels.

By pushing the envelope on his current R&D department, and having them build the tools to develop the tools to engineer the tools needed for bleeding edge development, they could skip 10 years of development every couple of years. Future monopoly on computer design? Probably. Unfair competitive advantage? Absolutely.

Did he give a damn, considering what they were aiming to prevent? Absolutely not.

With improved computers (and software) would come better engineering and material creation possibilities. Allowing them to push out to Luna - via private enterprise - and start a space mining and construction industry. Putting pressure on every major government, "hey look at us, we are in space and doing stuff, when are YOU going to show up?".

Around about the bottom of the 2nd bottle of whiskey, they had thrashed out the basics of an early development plan. Minor details such as how to deal with physically looking pretty much the same at the end of the next 20 years (I just have good skin..?), how to stop governments from just stealing all of their work (buy the national debt?), and, oh yes, stopping any crazy from wiping out a large part of the human race with nukes or bio-weapons (find and kill them first?) were all shelved for more sober times. Several very interesting points were covered though.

"So Jack", started Anderson, somewhere around bottle one and a third, "you somehow made Shepard put a bullet in me. And kinda locked me in a weird frozen state with Dark Energy ("Space Magic!" crowed Shepard). And plugged weird Reaper shit into yourself. Oh, and spent a lot of time and effort fucking with the attempts of the rest of us trying to fight the Reapers."

Jack waited patiently for Anderson to finish what he was saying, glancing at Shepard who nodded agreement with each point raised by Anderson. There was a short pause, then Jack realised Anderson had finished. "Was there a question in there somewhere Anderson...?".

"Not yet, but here it is - and think long and hard about this one. Ready? At what point did you realise you were being a total dick?". Shepard snorted and cursed and groaned, holding the nose that now had whiskey dripping from it.

Jack stared at Anderson, and stood up, walking to a nearby window. Staring out at the blue sky, white clouds drifting on the winds, he was silent for a moment. He abruptly turned back to the table, and slumped back into his chair.

"Well, when you put it like that... around about now? Looking back, I can see every step I made Cerberus take. Every measure I thought we HAD to take, to push humanity into first place, before everyone else, to be safe and at the top of the food chain. You know from our - benefactor - some of my history. The artifact I encountered, along with others in my group, nearly...hmmm. Thirty years before our Crucible meeting?"

Anderson and Shepard checked the intra-net and examined the events Jack obviously meant. Shepard looked at Anderson in shock. "Damn. You've been playing for the Reapers that entire time, and didn't even know it! "Indoctrination" whispered Anderson, "A ghost voice in your skull you didn't even know was there, saying THIS IS THE PATH TO TAKE".

Jack nodded, his face set in a grimace. "The things I did, the actions I ordered Cerberus to perform. Some of it, don't get me wrong, I would have done anyway, and would do again in a heartbeat if it meant Humanity was kept safe - AND HUMAN" he quickly added under the glares of the other two men, "but experimentation on Reaper tech? Incorporating it into my own self? Madness, or as you say, Indoctrination, no other explanation could account for those and other actions I took".

Anderson and Shepard nodded. Shepard leaned forward, eyes boring deep into Jack's "We won't forget what you did, and I sure as hell hope you never forget. At this point, each of us has a fresh start, a clean slate. We work together. We do what needs to be done, WHATEVER needs to be done, because if we fail, we all know how this ends. And it won't just be us or humanity who will be exterminated. It'll be every race harvested in the future that comes after us."

Jack nodded, his face taking on an unusually tired and gaunt appearance. "A heavy weight on all of our shoulders. Will we have the strength to make the hard choices, will we break from the strain?".

Shepard nodded, then tried to lighten the mood a little. "Not as heavy a weight or as big a strain as the one that is resting on my bladder at this point. Anderson, where's the head in this place?". He stood and waited for Anderson to point him in the right direction, and paused, looking them both in the eye. With a stone face expression, he delivered THAT line.

"I should go."

"Mission accomplished" Shepard though listening to the chuckles as he left, "One time I am happy that I looked up Shepard meme's on the extranet. Do I REALLY say it that often...?".

"So Anderson, Shepard is gone, I need to be quick and blunt. We died. Did you...see...anything...?"  
Anderson looked at Jack and shrugged. "Maybe. Something. You?"

Jack stood and walked to the drinks cabinet, returned with the third and final bottle of whiskey.  
"Yes. Certainly not something I intend to experience again for a thousand years or two. I'll say this. No matter how disturbing the fragmented memories are that I retain, it would still be better to be dead than Reaperfied. "

Jack sat back down. "Some of the oldest Reapers are over a Billion years old. Older than some star systems. Can you imagine how it must be feel to be a tortured twisted soul making up part of a genocidal killing machine for that length of time, how insane most of them must be? No? Neither can I".

Anderson shuddered and grunted agreement, in time for Shepard to return.

"Amazing, I leave you two alone for a minute, come back and Anderson looks like you just shot his puppy. Look on the bright side. At least you CAN be left alone with each other without one of you getting turned into a corpse...".

Around a bottle and a half, a few things became clear. They certainly weren't getting drunk like they normally should, nothing more than a mild buzz after half a bottle each over an hour or two. They weren't feeling hunger either. Sure, a mild "I could eat" level of awareness, but nothing major. And it was Jack that popped in the last realisation.

"I haven't had a smoke since I got here. No desire. Good job I guess, considering the abysmal state of current medical technology - Shepard, add a note to the list to push some more modern elements into that area. I guess the whole Asari lifespan thing has other benefits!".

The third and final bottle had been cracked open and Anderson finally decided to take the bull by the horns.

"Okay Jack. I've got over a thousand security personal and the same again mercs scattered everywhere. But a huge bunch are down in places like Colombia, providing security for drug lords and merchandise shipments. I got to ask, why, why the hell are we up to our eyeballs in that sort of shit?"

Jack swirled his glass, watching the liquid inside climb higher and higher up the sides, never quite escaping the glass walls of the cage. "Quite simply, money. And control. The men you employ are paid to do exactly as they are told, no questions asked. Yes, a lot of them are scum, or what any sane, 'normal' person would consider scum. We get a major revenue source, which we, quite frankly, desperately need. They get security and are able to expand operations."

"And in the near future, in a couple of years, I want you and Shepard to take additional forces down there, and exterminate every single cartel and significant operator. Which should be made easier when their own security forces turn around and gun them down."

Shepard watched Jack. The slight smirk, glint in his eyes...what card was he playing now. "If you want to get rid of the drug trade, why not do it now? Surely everything is in place already?"

Jack laughed. "Shepard, when have I ever thrown away an opportunity like that before?" Jack gestured at the notes Shepard had been making "for all of the goals and plans we have, we need money, Billions upon Billions of, ahhhh.. Dollars right. Not credits. We don't have huge galactic spanning corporations to skim from, or hundreds of front companies. But we can still extract money from the people of this country. And they'll give it willingly. You see?".

Anderson frowned, nodding. "You control the trade. The people who want the...drugs, pay. You've got a fair sized corporation with a lot of R&D going on, with a lot of new ideas and products that will come into play around that point, allowing you to bury the money".

Jack nodded "And it will be an international company, once we take control of areas like Columbia, we can branch out, bringing other organisations under our control. And Shepard, just spit it out before your head explodes!"

"DRUGS?!" roared Shepard "What's next? People smuggling? Sex slavery? Maybe assassination of anyone who you think is going to be a problem? Nuking England for having Big FUCKING BEN?!"

Wiping a fleck of spittle off his cheek, Jack turned to Anderson. "David, please, explain it to John in very small words, I'm going to...go elsewhere for 10 minutes. I feel my being here is causing him some distress".

Anderson stood and wrapped his arms around Shepard as he attempted to charge at Jack "Easy John, let him walk, listen, LISTEN to me" grunted Anderson. After a few seconds of struggle, Jack had left the room and Anderson felt Shepard's muscles slump into a more relaxed state.

"Sit" Anderson half guided, half pushed Shepard back into his seat. He sat down facing Shepard and held up a finger. "Deep breath". Two fingers "Deep breath - calmer?". Shepard scowled and nodded.

"Before we came here, the drug trade would have existed. People were going to make that stuff, people were going to pay money for that stuff. A lot of people would die. Some actually deserved it, vast majority would not. The majority of the trade is currently controlled by one group. When we take over it, we can save some of those people who would have died, make things a bit better. Better quality drugs, less deaths from that. Less need to involve others in moving the drugs, no 'mules', no hijacking boats to use for smuggling. We won't know the names, or see the faces of the ones we save..."

Anderson slumped and wiped a hand over his face. "You only saw a bit of Earth when the Reapers landed. I lived and fought it for weeks, months. Watched my men die. Saw babies ripped in half by brutes, while husks dragged down others and ate them whilst they screamed. And that doesn't cover the things I saw and heard of people doing to each other".

Anderson jabbed a finger in the direction Jack had taken. "He's a bastard, there ain't no other way of looking at it. But his plan takes that money, check the intra-net, Billions of dollars every month, of effectively WASTED money, and puts it into our hands. Giving us the tools it takes to start humanity on a path. The path to stop what I endured from hopefully ever happening again. To anyone".

"That other shit you said? That's on us. WE are the one's who are Jack's keepers in this day and age. Hell, we are his morals, and need to be able to draw a line for him and say 'you don't cross this, that is the path to the loss of our souls'. Those things you raised, you can bet his illusive ass he's now thinking on scenarios when he MIGHT need to do that , and HOW to do it. The man is a monster. But you know the rest of that saying, being the 'Butcher of Torfan', don't you?".

Shepard nodded

"He might be a monster, but he's OUR monster. And God have mercy on those we unleash him on - because he will have none". 


	4. 04 - Quantum? Space Magic!

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Yay. Birthday and Valentines day on the same weekend. Hangover has just about ended, so let's press on. Thank you everyone for your reviews, I shall be pushing on with a gradual time progression approach.

Chapter 04 - Quantum? Space Magic!

It had been several months since the intial arrival of the trio, and several important steps had been taken (including the purchase of a significant amount of Microsoft stock when it floated), plans made (and many new and interesting gadgets constructed and destroyed in the R&D labs), and an important tradition had been introduced.

Movie night.

Every weekend, unless there was a Class One business related emergency being dealt with, the three travelers would settle down with various sci-fi movies, a significant amount of alcohol and a dumper truck of popcorn. Pizza also normally made an appearance, heavy on the meat and light on vaguely healthy veg.

Various staff were aware of this recent change of routine, and when politely interrogated the trio admitted it was a combination 'relaxation, research and idea brainstorming session. Was something seen in the movie vaguely realistic? Feasible? Worth having a look at? Plus, mocking the really, REALLY bad movies was just good fun'.

And every word of it was true. Except, the ideas and gadgets tossed around (and torn to shreds) were all from the perspective of looking for anything - technological innovations, weapons, strategies, ANYTHING - that would give them an edge against the council races initially, and ultimately, the Reapers.

If they found a good idea to make money today (or in the near future), even better. Jack was practically ready to physically throw Shepard back into the R&D labs after watching the large digital advertising board appear in Blade Runner.

"Achievable and would earn us a massive share of revenue, with major companies screaming to have their products displayed on screens that size and quality!"

Star Wars, both episodes were watched back to back and were an eye-opener. Yes, the Imperial star destroyers would have been great, and might end up being the models for future capital ships, but more importantly was the emphasis placed in the movies on one or two crewed spacecraft, fighters and bombers, both Imperial and Rebel.

"I really don't recall the Reaper Capital and Destroyer class vessels having effective anti-fighter defences, correct me if I'm wrong?" spoke Jack.

Anderson shrugged "on the ground we didn't see a lot of air support, they had a particular variant devoted to air supremacy, a mobile system, no idea how effective it would have been in space. Shepard?"

Shepard nodded agreement with Jack. "We never saw any weapon system that targeted anything smaller than a Corvette or Frigate, for smaller ships like the Mantis, that's what they seemed to use the Oculus drones for. Fast, well armoured and with lethal particle weaponry. And though we never saw Sovereign deploy them, they had swarms of them at Earth. I pretty much assumed they were deployed by the Reapers".

Jack looked thoughtful for a few seconds, studying the Death Star trench run again (third time today). "Their outer armour on Capital class ships is incredible, massively thick, standard existing heavy weapons pretty much just bounce off. We would need multiple strikes, preferably multi-megaton range to crack them open. But they have a weak spot - that beam weapon they use, it's significantly less heavily armoured?"

"Right, but it takes massive concentrated fire power to damage around that area, or pinpoint accuracy and timing. And I don't think we will have 'The Force' helping our fighter Jocks" agreed Shepard. "Ummmmm..." pondered Jack, some tentative plans obviously forming.

"And the Council races just don't believe in air-space superiority craft. Yes, they all bought the A-61 when it hit the market, and don't get me wrong, it's a great robust and versatile craft, but it was designed by a combination of Human and Turian engineers. And those are also the only two races that had dedicated carrier ships, the Turians built their few in the decade before the Repears hit us.

Before we came on the scene, they used armoured shuttles in atmosphere, and corvettes as light attack craft in space" Anderson clarified. "So apart from whatever use you think 'snubfighters' could have against the larger Reaper craft, they would also be a hell of a shock to the Council when we first encounter them".

2001 (Space Odyssey) wasn't much use, but did raise some very important questions on the potential use and concerns of AI's.

"Less face it, HAL was crazy. But then, we are facing an artificially created race of organic-machine spaceships, controlled by a crazy ass AI who is trying to save organics from AI's by turning them into Reapers. HAL expressed real emotion at the end. Fear, when threatened with extermination. If we actually start to have success against the Reapers, or we manage to get into the Citadel, find where Star-Childs hardware is and take an axe to it, how do we think scared crazy AI's are going to react?" pondered Anderson.

"Badly" announced Jack. "Probably to the extreme of blowing up planets that are resistance centers".

"Seriously?" muttered Shepard. "Of course. If I can think of it, you can be sure they can. Take a good size ship, accelerate it at the planet, discontinue the ME field just at the atmosphere and, well, that's why there are hardwired controls to prevent you doing that" confirmed Jack.

"Great, another one for the list" groaned Shepard, as he added yet another note to his rapidly filling pad.

It was the following weekend that the jackpot was hit though. Terminator.

"Seriously? How the hell did something like this NOT get remade?!" exclaimed Shepard.

"Probably due to the council. Anything mentioning AI is treated with absolute contempt. And a story about a scary AI trying to wipe out humanity, with what looks like Geth, and can disguise them as human to be infiltrators? Maybe a bit too close to home" suggested Anderson.

"But I agree with Shepard, it would have been a classic. Can't you just see it, when the soldier from the future presents his evidence to the Council, waving a skull left over from the industrial plant? And the Turian councilor raise's his hands and states 'Ah yes "Terminators". We have dismissed this claim', with those wonderful air quotes?" laughed Jack.

"What?" he said as the others stared at him, "I used to have a recording of that meeting to remind myself what total idiots the council are. Were. Will be."

"All joking aside, take a good look at this one. The possibility of making our own AI exists. The Quarians managed it, and - though admittedly we did shortcut the process using Reaper code - we had functioning AI's ourselves." said Jack. "Having an AI in control of a planetary defence network - IF it is a secure AI - would make sense.

Having, for want of a better word, limited AI's in control of mining and production? Automated factories and construction yards? Robot soldiers, not AI, more like VI?"

"And the Protheans. They created AI's in the past, and had pretty complex VI's, the two I met could detect indoctrination...Damn. DAMN! Both of the Prothean VI's could detect indoctrination, the one on Ilos I just can't see us being able to get to, but the one on Thessia...?" Shepard excitedly asked.

Anderson frowned, "Thessia? That's a tall order Shepard, even if we tried through legitimate channels. And somehow acquiring the Prothean VI or copying it? Didn't you say it was part of the beacon the Asari have hidden from the rest of the galaxy?"

"Then we steal it. With it's cooperation of course" stated Jack, "all we need is the key, someone who can convince this VI to cooperate. Or...perhaps even ORDER it to cooperate? Someone unique to this galaxy?"

"Javik" Shepard said, grinning happily, "on Eden Prime. One of the first human colony worlds, we know none of the other races came near the planet so it's safe for us to get there again and we know pretty much EXACTLY where his vault and his stasis pod are."

Anderson also smiled, nodding happily "Yes, get Javik, bring him up to speed, he's the highest rank Prothean left in the galaxy and would jump at the chance of kicking the Reapers in the balls. Use a...stealth ship? Something a bit like the Normandy? to then get into that temple on Thessia. Grab or copy the VI. Escape. And we then have our Indoctrination detection system".

"Agreed. Even if we just cut down the code required, create a much simplified VI that is purely for detection purposes. Even down to a simple scanning device level on doorways or clearing stations. In fact, if it could be shrunk enough, hand held scanning units would be perfect" said Jack. "Shepard, get it on the list, along with the need to take a hard look at AI development. See what our friend left floating around in the skull of yours".

"What about the robots? Skynet created an army of human skeleton style machines, maybe for psychological warfare reasons? Seems a bit of a waste to me, the effort made to replicate them to that degree, but something simpler in appearance like the Geth platforms, especially the larger Prime units? Big, lots of power and armour?" asked Shepard, brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe something like the Yummy?"

Jack stared at Shepard. Then looked at Anderson who shrugged, and back at Shepard, who was starting to turn a bit flushed.

"What? Seriously, you don't know what I mean? The YMIR Mech? I thought everyone called them that..." He muttered the last, looking embarrassed.

"The...Yummy...Mech. Not a name to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies" Jack expressed, in a slightly pained tone of voice.

"Actually, I like it. The civvies would think it was cute. The troops would think it was cute too, in a totally insane and twisted manner. I say that Shepard just named our first major ground unit." Anderson knocked back his drink, reached over and patted Shepard on the shoulder, with a big toothy grin. "Well done son. And look at it this way, no one-off is going to be able to claim we ripped off their idea to create this thing. I don't think anyone has had the balls to give a weapon system such a cutesy name before..."

Jack reached forward and snatched the pen and notepad away from Shepard "YUMMY Mech, heavy assault unit, rockets and machine guns?" he scrawled down "size?"

"You are actually serious about this?" Shepard said, totally shocked, and gaped when he saw nods from both men.

"Well...three sizes? Geth platform size, so it can get anywhere a person can, Yummy sized for taking on heavy armour levels of opposition, and ummmmm... "

"oh no, there goes Tokyo size?" suggested Anderson, openly laughing at the idea of Big fucking Robots that could face down Reapers and their creations when they hit planet-side. "Armed with Magnetic Accelerator cannons, Lasers and Nukes? And do you think anyone would drag us into court if we called that one Gojira?"

"Anderson, you are insane. I blame the amount of salt and butter you apply to the popcorn" said Jack, as he carefully added 'Gojira' and the corresponding weapon loadout to the list. "And I get to name the last model. I shall carefully consider it, seeing as these would be the bulk of the forces, and will announce it later."

The eagerly awaited ALIENS turned out to be far less useful than expected. The negative lessons learned "don't take corporate douches with you on missions" and "crappy communication about throwing explosives around a nuclear reactors cooling system kills" were useful reminders if nothing else. Though they did raise an interesting question. Why Thermal Clips?

"So it fires caseless 10mm rounds, has a 100 round capacity magazine - approximately - and can fire grenades"?  
"Yep"  
"And they have sentry guns, motion trackers and pretty cool looking and well armed dropships?"  
"Yep"  
"And those all seem pretty reasonable advances and equipment compared to what we see Marines equipped with today?"  
"Sure"

"And so a couple of years before the Reapers arrive, we moved to redesign every troops main weapon in the Galaxy, switched over to Thermal Clips, which are basically ammunition. Changing from a gun system that could fire effectively infinite rounds, as along as you used fire discipline? So everyone fighting the Reapers forces eventually ran out of ammunition? As the new guns could not be fired without a cold heat sink?"

"Yep. You know, My biggest fan pointed out what a step back that was. Creepy, but clever guy"  
"And it was pretty much every gun, not just the main weapons our troops carried."  
"And it happened in a couple of years, for every major race?"  
"Yep" "That's right"

"And no-one had sentry guns until Cerberus introduced them?"  
"Basically"  
"And even the System Alliance still uses unarmed and poorly armoured shuttles for deploying troops in a hot zone?"  
"Ah-huh"  
"Did Humanity stop THINKING after we started using the Mass Relays?"  
"Everyone dig around the Intra-net and try and work out if the Thermal Clip push came from one of the council races. I find the timing to be VERY suspicious"

"Got nothing"  
"Same here"  
"Did they do the same for Cruisers and Dreadnoughts?"  
"What?"  
"Give them really big Thermal Clips so they could fire quicker? Until they ran out of really big Thermal Clips?"  
"Uh...no?"  
"Same principal though, correct? The ship that can put the most metal on targets the fastest will probably win the fight?"  
"Uhhhhhh...maybe?"  
"I don't know who pushed for it to happen, but someone sabotaged the entire galaxy and weakened our ability to fend off Reaper ground forces. Maybe they didn't consider the Navies a threat. Remember that."

The final movie that inspired some serious research, was strangely enough Dune.

"That's a Thresher Maw"  
"Nope. Big Sandworm"  
"Thresher Maw"  
"Sandworm"  
"Shut up you two. Go back to the part with the Guild ship, when they travel to Dune."  
"Fine...you realise it's just made up, and you aren't actually going to learn how to do it from watching a big mutated flying man-maggot shoot energy out of his maggot mouth?"

"Hush. And less Whiskey for you. Simple visuals can help clarify complex ideas significantly. There. We need an in-system FTL, but I think this gives us an avenue of research for system to system travel".

Anderson and Shepard looked at Jack as though he had suddenly announced he was the Tooth Fairy.

And was marrying Harbinger.

Today.

"It is in retrospect, pretty obvious, once you have the information we have. From this point in time, I assume researchers could theorise, but not support with any evidence."

"Huh?"  
"Anderson pretty much summed it up. What is pretty obvious?"

"Folding space. Traveling without moving. It's possible. And probably simple, once you have the power and the navigation system".

Jack looked at the others and shook his head. "You both understand folding space, or tunneling as I think it is also referred to. Now, remember the Normandy was equipped with a QEC?"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeah" dragged out Shepard, still not willing to admit he didn't see where this was going.

"Well the Quantum Entanglement works with paired electrons, over a potentially infinite distance, for same time communication. Don't try and get your head around it, it's Quantum, correct?"

"Agreed. Two Quantum Physicists standing on the world. One fell off".

"Exactly. But this means that two points in space/time are linked, as though they are in the same place at the same time effectively, agreed?"

"I'll go with that. And yes, I'll have another drink."

"Agreed. Now, you said our friend is pan-dimensional?"

"Yes. Oh wait. Fuck no."

"Correct. We don't build an FTL drive to jump systems. We use a dimensional drive, which will allow us to jump effectively instantly to another point. Probably limited by the power required to breach the dimension, which MIGHT depend on the distance being, well, traveled."

Anderson returned with fresh drinks, and handed them out. "And what is to prevent ships from just bouncing from system to system in multiple short jumps? 0.1LY a jump, one jump a minute, that's 6LY an hour. For example."

Shepard started muttering random calculations under his breath, zoning out as he started testing out the ideas Jack had brought forward. Jack watched him for a second, and answered Anderson.

"Possibly nothing. Possibly because we will need something like that" his finger stabbed at the Guild Heighliner "to all arrive at the same location. Or it might take 50 hours to charge the capacitors to do a 1LY jump. Possibly because the action of moving up and down dimensions causes a physical strain on the ship, and it might experience failure after each jump. Possibly because there is a small chance on each jump that you don't get to return to this Dimension, instead you get smeared 'quantum-ly' across an infinite number of alternate dimensions. Screaming in agony. Forever"

Anderson was looking quite green at the last possibility.

Shepard's head suddenly snapped up.

"I just got a metaphorical pat on the head from Q. Jack, I think you might be on the track of something worthwhile here". 


	5. 05 - You built a what?

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this! Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - I am going to be touching on a number of real world events as this story continues. How I portray things may not be strictly accurate compared to our reality. That's because this reality closely mirrors our own, but does have it's own differences. Also, please note the story is M for a reason. Real world events, history and opinions of them can get ugly, no matter from which side of the event you stand.

Chapter 05 - You built a what?

There was a knock on his door followed by an "excuse me sir" from one of the many computer engineers that worked in Shepard's R&D department. "Mr Harper is in reception, and he has a number of...military type people with him".

Shepard sighed and dropped the crystal cube he had been studying onto his desk. "Fine, I'll go and meet him. Make sure anything that can go boom is secured. And tell Henderson to shut down his LASER and GRASER units. Wouldn't want to splatter the new clients, would we?

Faceless minion #27 scuttled off on his new mission. Shepard shook his head, "really have to learn some of their names, not just the team leaders" he muttered, grabbing his jacket and making sure to lock the door on the way out. Far too many items of interest in there to let anyone just wander in. With a direct research staff of nearly 200 though, there was no way he could do more than remember the two dozen team leaders at this time.

1987 was rapidly approaching, and an agreement had been made within the trio to get involved in the Strategic Defence Initiative (SDI), more commonly referred to as the 'Star Wars' project. Today was the first time members of the US military would be on site in the R&D labs. They were supposedly here to talk about several of the overall SDI concepts, and how Cerberus might be able to contribute.

In reality they were here to see the Graser. The (G)amma (r)ay l(aser) was a concept that had been around for a while, but only in the last few months had the Los Alamos National Laboratory made progress, with reports that Los Alamos scientists expected prototypes to be developed within the next three years.

When Jack had been testing the waters for Cerberus to be involved in SDI, he had queried the fact that the draft documents were advocating the use of Lasers as part of the defence network.

"Why not use Grasers?" asked Jack.

"Because it'll be three to five years before an initial prototype is developed, as was covered in sub-section 7.3 of appendix D" was the condescending response from one of the higher ranking officers present.

"Really?" said Jack, apparently surprised, "I had best tell Shepard to dismantle the Graser he finished building last month then...".

Which was why Shepard was standing in the Cerberus R&D reception, flanked by a pair of their more 'presentable' (and not actually wanted by the FBI, CIA or local law enforcement agencies) security personnel, waiting for Jack to finish his latest sales pitch to seven officers standing at the desk.

"Interesting, only one person for the Army, and one for the Navy, and five for the Airforce" thought Shepard, "I think we can tell who's trying to grab the lion's share of the budget".

"And here is the man who designed and built this new weapon system, John Shepard himself!" announced Jack, as he stepped forward and slapped Shepard on the shoulder. "Tell these gentlemen some of the tests you have run to date, I am sure they would love to hear what you have been destroying recently!" Jack joked with a big smile. The various military officers merely stared at Jack with stony expressions across their faces.

"Well, so far today we have blown up a coffee pot, Henderson's doughnuts and later we intend to fry a selection of small kittens and puppies..." snarked Shepard. But, stopped when he saw the frown appearing on Jacks face.

"Fine okay. We've been working through a selection of materials, various thicknesses and layering. We also be making continual adjustments to improve efficiency. If you all have your security badges..." Shepard glanced at Jack who nodded confirmation "...then you can follow me to the testing area".

After a five minute walk the group arrived at a door with various 'WARNING!' signs, ranging from Biohazard through to Radiation. "Don't worry, you won't need any special protection for this stage, we will be watching previous tests from a sealed room. We won't be going anywhere near the device. It makes everything a lot safer. Please ensure any electronic communication devices are switched off before you enter the room, or they may be permanently...disabled." Several of the visitors seemed disappointed at this.

They entered the room, which appeared to be a small movie theater. 40 seats were arranged to face a very large screen. "Please be seated. The following is prerecorded footage of the device being used on sand - then glass. Thin steel sheeting, thicker wood panels, layered panels including ice. All panels range from 5mm to 50mm thickness depending on material".

The lights were dimmed, and the following 20 minutes followed test after test, with appropriate voice overs and discussion. Silence filled the room during and after the recording ended.

"Mr Shepard, a few questions" said one of the Airforce visitors. "Size and weight of the device? Firing rate? Power requirements? Has it been tested on...organic materal? Maximum effective range for the various materials?"

A nod from Jack indicated Shepard should answer appropriately.

"Obviously this is very early stages of development. The working prototype is exactly that - a prototype. The device is currently approximately two meters cubed, and weighs in at around 2000 Kilos." This made quite a few eyes widen in surprise.

Shepard continued "The power requirements are currently immense. We are using a couple of sets of old diesel sub batteries as capacitors, fed over high capacity lines to the device, so despite my initial statement, it's nowhere near vehicle portable. We spend nearly 24 hours powering up each shot."

The Navy visitor raised a hand, and Shepard nodded. "You are probably restricted to old style batteries, the most recent variations will charge up three or four times quicker. I could look at getting you access to some more recent items, which would speed up testing?".

Jack smiled "That would be most helpful. If you could secure a dozen sets, then that would speed things up significantly" He paused "Apologies, Shepard is actually in the process of constructing several additional prototypes. With additional, more modern capacitor charging, we should be able to focus on efficiency improvement and miniaturisation alongside materials testing".

Several small smiles appeared on the visitors.

"Maximum effective range is currently estimated at 200 meters, that's at sea level. High altitude and orbital maximum ranges would obviously be higher, even with the current prototype" continued Shepard. "As for organic testing, we certainly haven't used it on anything living, but yes. We tried it out on some pig and cow carcasses. Let's just say, highly effective. The damage inflicted within a meter of the beam was still impressive, certainly enough to be considered a kill on most creatures."

"What about modern armour" spoke the Army visitor "I'm thinking you've been looking at this from taking out ICBM perspective, which are effectively unarmoured. What about this being adapted into an anti-vehicle weapon?"

"Wellll" drawled Shepard "the most we have had this baby work on is 120mm of Steel, and it took nearly 40 Seconds to get

through that. Drained everything we had. And as you all recall from the tests, it's bright. It's a continuous focused beam that also passes heat into the air as it works. Not exactly stealthy, and completely immobile at this stage. And good luck getting your target to sit still for 40 seconds. But it's a definite possibility" Shepard nodded to the Navy visitor "Especially for anti missile defence on something like a nuclear powered carrier, or an anti ship weapon on a cruiser".

Jack chimed in "And though the current designs would have to go through a number of evolution's to make something capable of being mounted to an air-frame, they would again make a good anti missile or anti aircraft defence for airbases".

The Airforce visitors began to mutter to each other, and Jack turned back to the Army visitor. "We are also thinking that with advanced radar and tracking advances in the pipeline to help identify and target ICBM's or multiple warheads, the same method couple be applied for tracking and detonating mortar or artillery rounds...".

"Sold" said the Army guy with a big toothy grin. "You gentlemen will get my support with the committee. Anything that looks feasible that keeps my boys safer and puts a world of hurt on the bad guys, and I'll be backing you".

The Navy visitor also nodded. "We want to see more details and results, but I see no reason why we can't support pushing some basic resources - if not funding - to get this project moved forward."

The Airforce mutterings were slowly increasing to raised voices and waving hands, Jack looked at Shepard and gave a small nod. "Of course, one of the major limitations of adding such an item to an air-frame is everyone thinks immediately of fighters and air combat, and even the next few evolution's won't be anywhere near small enough to be used by a fighter."

Shepard paused, making sure he had everyone's attention again.

"But a nose mounted version on something like a cargo transporter...hell, I can imagine having a number with the weapon system installed, and they are used as normal transports 99% of the time, and you load in the power supply and hook it up when you need some mobile anti missile defences..."

Thing had gone very quiet with the Airforce visitors as they heard what Shepard was suggesting. "Trash haulers?!" exploded one with indignation, but the others had a thoughtful look to them. "That proposal does sound workable. Not much different to the AC-47...and it would mean a significant expansion of the transport fleet." "With corresponding support services and possibly additional airfields being setup to give shortest response time to project flight paths..."

Jack leaned over to Shepard and whispered "always looking for the biggest slice of the pie, with the most expensive toys.."

The visitors left Cerberus R&D an hour later, after a quick tour on some of the other areas Cerberus were working on, and a live firing demonstration of the Graser on a mocked up ICBM warhead, which was sliced through within a few seconds. The technicians then took a powered saw to the device to show the layered material within was an "approximation" of what would be found inside a live one.

With a promise to support Cerberus for additional funding and logistical support, it was unsurprisingly enough the Army representative who responded most positively in his comments on the last test "and I'll see about getting some boys to deliver some explosives and work with you. We need to see what happens when that thing gets through the armour and heats up something that goes BANG."

Meanwhile Anderson was sat in his office with his head in his hands, trying to come up with a workable plan.

Fact. Shepard had covered resource requirements for their space expansion and fusion designs. Which would require a boatload of platinum and gold.

Fact. Platinum was one of the rarest metals on Earth. Once in space, they could definitely find some rich deposits in the Solar System, but they had to get there first.

Fact. Majority of the worlds Platinum came from one place. South Africa.

Fact. South Africa was a shithole. Currently under Apartheid for the next 7 or 8 years, it would then move into a majority black rule, with a gradual degeneration into tribalism, nepotism and flat out corruption, which would leave a fractured and ineffective country to face the Ebola plague of 2018 and the following civil war.

Fact. Anderson was black. There was no way he was going to be able to work with people in South Africa, for any number of reasons. Most importantly, because he didn't think he would be able to resist putting a bullet or a knife into the first one of those smug pricks that called him a "Kaffir".

Fact. Shepard and Harper were both unavailable and now too high profile, due to their links to Star Wars.

Answer...we need someone to handle the South Africa operations. Someone who can fit in. Someone who wouldn't put up with any shit and still get the job done. Who would be willing to get his hands dirty if needed. Someone who would also be deniable if things went south.

Someone we can trust. Someone who we are going to have to make trust US. Hell, we need a Zaeed.

Wait...who was that one who just got back from Central America? Guatemala wasn't it? Something about a hostage rescue and meeting something freaky in the jungle which hunted him and his team...lone survivor...

Decision made, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. And waited.

"Sally? It's David. Tell Dutch to get his ass over to my office. Who? Alan Schaefer, the one that just got back from CA. I need to debrief him and give him a new tasking. One that I just know he's going to love." 


	6. 06 - Hunter

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Thank you everyone for your reviews - the feedback is much appreciated, and I am surprised how many people have identified elements I intend to build into the story. And a big shout out to FlameRaven for spotting the missing Trek from the brainstorming sessions. Yes, this is a Trekless reality (Gasp!). And now, on with the show, and a bit of action this time (kinda). WARNING. Definitely on the Mature side.

Chapter 06 - Hunter.

Anderson leaned back in his chair, and evaluated the rather worn looking soldier in front of him.

'Dutch' held himself at attention in his chair. Barely healed cuts could been seen on his face and hands. He had moved stiffly when he entered the office and sat, as though every muscle and bone was bruised.

There was a stubborn set to his jawline, as though he knew the report he was going to give would be disbelieved, but he was going to give it anyway. And there was a tired look in his eyes, along with something like shock. As though he had seen a little to far, a little to much, and was still trying to make sense of it.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your team Alan" started Anderson "I've been there, and it never gets any easier. Now..." Anderson reached down, opened a drawer, and pulled out a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He cracked the bottle, and poured a finger into each glass, pushing one to Dutch.

"I've seem some pretty freaky shit, but it sounds like you ran into something new. And if it's something any of our other teams might run into, we need to understand what you went through. No Bullshit. No covering it up. So, you pick up that glass if you need to and I'll keep filling it, but you don't leave this room until you tell me what the hell happened in that jungle".

Dutch wrapped a large hand around his glass and raised it to his lips, and knocked it back in one. Dropped it onto the desk and pushed it to Anderson to refill. Picked up the glass again and held it in both hands, staring into it.

"It was a standard extraction mission" he started in his thick Austrian accent, "my team has...had...successfully performed the same a dozen times previously. Someone being held for ransom, we locate them, and extract. Everything went pretty much as planned. Insertion into the country with no issues. Information we had got us to the right area. And then things changed. Badly."

Dutch took a small drink and continued to stare into nothing. Anderson waited patiently, and eventually Dutch raised his head and looked Anderson in the eye, his face haunted as he recalled what had awaited them.

"We found the village where the target was being held. It was silent as a grave, nothing moved. The air stank with the smell of blood and shit, that heavy copper smell, you know the one? At the time, we had no idea what had happened. The camp was empty. Guns and shell cases scattered everywhere. Blood covered everything. We spent nearly thirty minutes combing the area, found bits of bodies...skin. Sometimes a hand, still holding a weapon. And we found her, the hostage, still in her cell".

"There was no-one alive except the girl? What about animals?"

"Nothing. I remember some penned pigs, all dead, looked like someone had shoved a grenade inside them".

"Alright. Okay. The girl, what condition was she in when you found her?"

"To be honest? Fucking terrified. When we found her cell, she was huddled in the corner, I thought she was dead at first. When we opened the door, she started screaming, refused to come out. Started saying she was safe in here, where the demon couldn't get her".

"Was she hurt?"

"No. Physically okay, a bit bruised, hungry. She stank. Took us another thirty minutes to calm her down a bit. She had been sat in that cell for two days, too scared to move. Too scared to move to shit or piss. And the bucket was just on the other side of the cell."

"Jesus. Okay, what next?"

"We...ahhh...cleaned her up. Actually, we threw a couple of buckets of water at her. There was an extraction zone maybe 20 klicks away. If we moved at a reasonable pace, we could make it before nightfall. There was no way we were staying in that place".

"Did she tell you anything else about this Demon? About what she saw?"

"She didn't see a thing. She just kept saying it killed them all, hunted them, made them scream and die, one by one by one."

"This village, this base. It was a fairly major site for the guerrilla's, right?"

"Yeah. Had to be more than fifty troops in there, going by the size of the place and the number of weapons. And that's not all. There were signs that a Soviet team was there, advisors maybe. At least four of them."

"That sort of site would need a couple of SF team's to neutralise. Okay, you get the girl, clean her up a bit?"

"Yes. Explained we were here to rescue her, and we needed to get to a clearing by the river, so our extraction ride could collect us. Told her our primary mission was to keep her safe and get her out of the country, back home. She laughed. Said we were all going to die. That the Demon doesn't stop until it's hunt is done."

Anderson froze. "What? She knew what this thing was?"

Dutch nodded, then shrugged his shoulders. "Turns out little Anna was captured looking at old Mayan ruins in the area. She had a theory based on some ancient artifacts that had been recovered, and writings that had been partially translated, that the jungles were home to a Demon that hunts the best warriors of each generation. Complete bullshit I thought. Then."

Anderson leaned back. "Okay, so it's what, 20 Kilometers to the EZ, jungle, no trails, maybe 6 hours?"

Dutch again nodded. "I talked to the guys. My team has...had. Been together for four years. We didn't like what we had found, or the crazy shit coming out of Anna's mouth. We decided we wanted out of there fast. We called it in, that we had the package and were rabbiting. EZ may be hot. We, ahhhh, we used the trails."

Anderson blinked. "Risky move, but in your shoes, I think I would be doing the same thing. Okay what happened?"

Dutch sank into his chair, or at least as much as his large frame allowed. "We found the missing locals. About a kilometer down the trail. They were hanging from the trees. All of them. Skinned. Some with heads missing. Like something from a spiders web. Mac was blaspheming. It was, it was just a wrong thing. Anna started to laugh, she was in hysterics within seconds. She ran off the trail. Hawkins chased her. They were gone for five, six seconds. Then she starting screaming, like the Devil himself was after her soul".

"Hawkins?"

"We all moved into the bush, I'll admit it, we were spooked. We found her quickly, not twenty seconds since she left the trail. Anna was just stood there, screaming in terror, at a blood patch on the ground."

"Shit."

"Where's Hawkins we yelled at her. Deployed in a circle looking everywhere, up in the trees. The blood went up the tree, then just stopped. You know what the jungle is like. Green everywhere, you can't see shit more then 10, 20 meters away. I slapped her".

"She snap out of it?"

"Yeah. Not proud, but she wasn't stopping. She just looked me in the eye and said it took him. This blur stuck it's claws into Hawkins neck, and dragged him up into the trees in the blink of an eye".

"The fuck? Hawkins scrawny?"

"Couple of hundred pounds, plus equipment. A motor pulley or counterweight could do it in that time. One person from the ground, taking it up? No way"

"Four of you left and the girl?"

"Yes, Anna. Mission objective. We are all sanitised when we go in, nothing to trace us back to Cerberus, but we wanted Hawkins back. No way did we want him to end up like the others. I said to the others, we run for the extraction zone. We get her out, then we hunt this fucker down."

"..."

"Are you judging me?"

"...Absolutely not. Go on Dutch, please."

"Well. We basically grabbed Anna, and got back on the trail. We started to run the trail, weapons free. Dragged Anna along with us, she's crying and stumbling the whole way. Were we jumpy? God yes. We covered most of the distance in less than two hours. I ended up throwing Anna over my shoulder and ran with her. That's what saved us."

Dutch went quiet again, then stood from his chair, and paced around the office. He snarled and his fist slammed into the office door, leaving a marked dent and a blood smear from split knuckles.

"The fucker left Hawkins dangling in front of us, a couple of klicks from the zone. We knew it was him from his uniform, which was in a pile under his head. Along with his skin, and his guts. Billy went to check it out, Mac and Poncho covered the flanks. Mac suddenly shouts he sees it and cuts loose with his Minigun. Trees and branches falling down all over. Then Billy shouts and I see the same thing as him. Laser beams from a tree above Mac. And then this snap-crack noise and a fucking bolt of lightning comes down on him and he explodes."

"Say again? Like, he blew up?"

"Yeah, couldn't see anything from the thing, the Demon. Just the laser, then the lightning. Hit him in the back of the neck, straight down. Fucking arms and legs came off. I jump back with Anna still over my shoulder. I've got no time to grab my weapon, and she's screaming again, kicking and flailing. Billy and Poncho are both unloading everything into the trees. Billy shouting for me to get to the EZ, just fucking run..."

Silence again filled the room.

"So I ran".

"I ran and as I ran, I had to listen to the gunfire and screams of my men, as they were butchered by that thing".

Silence.

"But we got there, just myself and Anna. I still had my radio. She had kicked my weapon away with her flailing. I called for the chopper, and she curled into a ball, weeping again. We were both covered in blood from Mac. The pilot was already in the air, when he picked up our first transmission, he had moved to a landing site a short distance away across the river, other side of the border."

Silence.

"We escaped. I kept expecting to see one of those bolts coming at us, to blow us out of the air. Nothing. Anna refused to leave me, we sent a message back confirming her extraction, and she would be returning as soon as she was recovered enough".

Silence.

"And that's the truth of it. I left my men to die. I ran."

"Alan. Dutch. You did what had to be done. Anna would have been dead if you hadn't made that choice. Hell, you say your own men told you to get her out of there. You did the mission. You got her home. Or is she still here?"

Dutch grunted, and wiped a bloodied hand across his face, looking exhausted. "She refuses to leave my side. She's sitting outside now. She's terrified the Demon is coming for her."

Anderson thought a moment. "Do you think she would be willing to come in? To talk over what she knows, remembers?"

Dutch looked at him in surprise. "That sounds like a seriously bad idea. Let me ask. If she starts screaming again, don't let security anywhere near her."

Anderson quickly picked up the phone "Sally? No matter what you hear in the next couple of hours, screaming, shouting, anything breaking, just ignore it. No, no, everything is okay, just got some talks to do and it might get messy. No calling security, you understand. NO. No-one at all, leave it to me. Okay. Okay." He put the phone done and looked up at Dutch.

"The ball is with you. Talk to the Lady. Be easy on her. Ask her."

Dutch nodded and slipped out of the room. Anderson could here quiet voices, and mentally reviewed what Dutch had told him so far. Obviously some level of advanced tech, sounded like either an energy weapon or a very large ME type weapon. Maybe a tech cloak of some description, or natural camouflage. Strong. Fast. Quiet. A hunter, killing for pleasure, not food.

Unless this was some sort of Super-Turian, they had something unknown on their hands, something that no-one had reported from the previous-future. Something that could be a game changer, for better or worse.

Anderson focused again as the door opened and Dutch stepped in with a nod, followed by a mess of a young woman. Hunched into herself, almost walking in the shadow of Dutch, she glanced nervously around the room, eyes flicking to the walls, the ceiling. Eyes puffy from crying, dark cheeks from both dirt smears and bruises. Anderson realised that blood was still on the side of her face. He glanced questioningly at Dutch, as he gently guided Anna into a seat next to his.

"She refuses to wash. At the least I was able to convince her to change her jacket for one of ours. The other was...a lost cause".

Anna wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at Anderson.

"Anna" he started gently "do you know why I asked if you would join us?"

"You think Dutch is Crazy. That I'm crazy" she declared in a shaking voice "that we made it up. That we are crazy. Everyone got butchered. By something not human. Alien."

Anderson paused, opened the drawer and pulled out a third glass. He poured a small measure of the spirits into it, and gentle pushed it across the desk to Anna. She picked it up with a trembling hand and looked from the shaking glass to Anderson and then Dutch.

"Go on Anna. You need it more than I did." reassured Dutch. "And for the record, for you both, I definitely think you are as sane as I am" added Anderson.

With a small sob Anna tipped the glass back, coughing as it burnt it's way down, and held out the glass for more.

"Anna. I know it's hard. Dutch has told me what happened from his side. Can you tell me a little of your story? Please?"

The soothing tones from Anderson, with the help of a second slug of high quality vodka seemed to calm Anna a little. In a strained monotone she spoke.

"Got to the Mayan site, had government guards with us, to stop us stealing things they said. Spent a few days there, and we found some, well, clues to support my theory. Maybe. Then those fucking assholes attacked the camp. Killed everyone, took me with them. Knew I was from a rich family, talked ransom." her voice dropped to a whisper "No-one touched me at least. Just put me in the box and left me there for days. Some food. Water." Pause. Choking laugh "I had to wipe myself with my  
sock when I used the bucket. Me. Using a sock to wipe my ass." Pause. Looks up at Dutch with tears in her eyes. "Please..."

Dutch gently opened his arms and she rested her face against his chest, and he slowly closed his arms around her shaking frame. In a slightly calmer and stronger voice, she continued.

"I hadn't really thought about it you know. Finding the clues that fit my theory. The location I was at. The stories the locals had whispered to me, handed down from father to son, mother to daughter. Bad place. Demon. Stay away. Even the latest generation. Not even when I started to hear the shouts. And the shooting. I thought maybe the army was attacking, the government were coming to rescue me."

Anna's hands made fists into the fabric of Dutch's jacket, trying to burrow into his chest.

"And then the screams started. Further out and then closer and closer. There was the noise of the weapon that thing had, the lightning cannon. The pigs were squealing, I remember them, and then the cannon and they stopped. I heard people moaning, the sound of, of metal hitting something like a machete in the jungle, and the moaning stopped, one by one..."

"And then it went quiet. That thing made some more noises, moving around. I heard a thump on the roof. I pissed myself. I curled into a ball in my own piss, waiting to die. And nothing happened."

Anna raised her head and looked up at Dutch. "I waited to die. For hours. For anyone to come. And no-one did, until Dutch..." her voice dropped to a whisper again "and his men, his brave, brave men".

Dutch held her against him again. His deep voice rumbled in his chest. "You are safe now Anna. We both are. You don't need to share the rest".

Anna shook her head. "I'm scared. We got away. No-one gets away from the Demon. It would have killed you. It was GOING to kill you. I grabbed your gun and threw it away. The red lights flashed over your back, over my face...and it didn't do it."

Dutch tensed. "Thank you. You never said, I never realised. I thought you knocked my weapon down by accident. If you hadn't, my men, they would have made their stand for nothing."

Anderson shook his head in disbelief, that such a simple act had preserved the lives of the two survivors in front of him.

"Anna, Dutch. I'm going to say it again. I don't think you are crazy. And I'm going to go with the word Anna used - Alien - for this thing. That weapon sounds like something with a laser targeting system. Nothing that any ancient demon is going to use, though even a few hundred years ago it certainly would have been classified as one".

"I need to make a couple of phone calls, I need to talk to Harper and Shepard about this. It'll go not further than the five of us. Anna, you are free to stay with us or head to your folks at any time. Anything you need, you tell me. Anything."

"Dutch, I had something lined up for you - but after this, after everything you have told me, I have to ask the question. Do you want to assemble some teams and try to bag this fucker?" 


	7. 07 - Or Prey

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Thank you everyone for the reviews. One of the last I saw was a concern the story was going to run away from me with multi-crossovers. A legitimate concern, the intention is there will be any number of references / cameos that people may (or not) get, but any full crossover is actually planned.

Chapter 07 - Or Prey.

Dutch paused for a second as have registered what Anderson had said. Anna however was far quicker.

"No way! Anything I want? DUTCH! He stays with me, I stay with him, and we don't go back to no Alien Demon fucking killing machine!"

Her voice volume had steadily risen until the last was practically screamed at Anderson, pulling away from Dutch and standing at Anderson's desk, face pushed forward to his.

Like a puppet who's strings had been cut, she then collapsed back into her seat. "Wouldn't matter anyway. Fucker is probably long gone. One of the things I managed to decipher from the Mayan inscriptions, something everyone else thought was wrong, was 'Demon Summer'. And the locals would say on the hottest days 'The Demon hunts today'. I watch the news. I've seen the tropical storm moving into the area. Heat wave is gone. Too cool, too wet now. He won't be there".

Dutch watched Anna carefully as she spoken, listening and considering Anderson's suggestion.  
"Maybe we could take a team back then. See if you can look at the ruins again, if the...if IT won't be there. And maybe find my team. Bring them back home."

Anna shrugged listlessly, the sudden surge of energy and emotion appeared to have exhausted her. "I really don't know Dutch. I'm too tired to think anymore, too scared. I want to go home. I want a shower." her voice dropped to a whisper again "I want you to come to bed and hold me until I sleep. Keep the monster away".

Anderson felt a wave of sadness, a feeling that he was intruding on something vastly private. He reached a decision - whatever happened, his division of Cerberus would be putting it's support behind the ones sitting in his office, regardless of what Jack said. Though knowing Jack (and Shepard), they would fully support keeping these two in a protective bubble.

"Anna, I want to apologise. I'm deeply sorry, I really didn't consider how you would feel at the thought of Dutch being moved from your side. Cerberus has facilities on site, in this building for people to stay over - visitors quarters, with shower facilities. They aren't the best, but they have warm water and reasonably soft beds. And we can organise clean clothing, for you both if needed. Just tell us what you need."

"What about Dutch? Don't you care what he needs?" was the waspish response.

Anderson nodded at Dutch. "I think Dutch will be happy with anything that makes you more comfortable at the moment" he said 'And if he focuses on helping you, maybe he won't focus on having lost his team. Guilt is going to kill him if it gets it's claws into him' he thought.

After a quiet discussion, the two agreed to use the quarters in the building. "Look" said Anderson, "I'm going to be calling Shepard and Harper, the other Cerberus heads. They'll be here later today at a guess, tomorrow we might need to meet again - but you will tell ME if you are ready for it."

"For now, go. Get clean, get some rest, hit the minibar. I'll call Sally, if you could just write down some sizes, she will arrange the necessary clothing for you, should be with you in an hour or two. Just let me call someone to escort you there."

After a quick call and instructions, a young lady appeared at the office to escort the exhausted couple to their temporary quarters. Nodding his thanks to her, Anderson moved to return the bottle of Vodka to the drawer, but instead poured himself a large measure, pleased that his hand was steady as it poured. He left the bottle on his desk - just in case.

Taking a large swallow, he savoured the burn which made him gasp. Then he picked up the phone again. "Sally. You give that couple whatever they need. If they want security, offer them a squad on constant alert. Full load-out. And put me in touch with Harper and Shepard. Tell them it's a Class One, and I need them onsite. ASAP."

Jack and Shepard were still at Cerberus R&D. Once the dog and pony show had been completed, Jack had requested a tour of some of the other areas that were being worked on.

"And this is where we are working on Genes. They are doing initial work on the identification of some of the triggers for Cancers. Specifically, lung cancer, brain cancer, bone cancer."

"Why those three?"

"The lung cancer is obvious, pollution from industry or smoking will impact millions of people over the next 30 years. Our goal is twofold, to be able to produce something that can be applied to individual cases, a cure. And something that can be distributed on a wide scale basis, a vaccination as such."

"And the others?"

"Resources. Along with heart disease, those two are resource intensive. Eliminating them from the health system will free up resources to focus on other areas".

"Very well. Nothing gets released for testing outside of R&D without my agreement. Coming up with a cure for cancer would make you a legend, or the most hated person on the planet if it fucks up. We need to be 100% on this. And I mean, 100%. Good work, next department?"

Shepard lead Jack back to the High Energy Experimental area. "You've seen the Laser and Graser tests already, next to them we have Esoteric Materials."

"Seriously you couldn't have come up with a better name than that?"

"Like what? Considering we are working on Unobtanium and Synthetic Antimatter"

"Give me a second...Anomalous Materials?"

Shepard paused. "You know, I did actually suggest that, but the team leader rejected it. Said it gave him a bad feeling. And with Quantum, well, better safe than sorry."

Harper grunted as they approached the Esoteric Material lab. "What's the team leaders name?"

"...Freeman".

"Shepard, I have to confess to being very uncomfortable after meeting that man"  
"Was it the beard? I have to confess, I'm not a huge fan of his beard."  
"More the pointed requests that we don't perform any work near his labs that might involve alternate realities or dimensional breaches. Do we have a security issue here?"

"...Dr Freeman comes highly recommended from MIT. He also comes with a nice number of Conspiracy theories, and his own collection of Tin Foil hats, if you get what I mean".

"Fine. He's crazy."

"Eccentric. Paranoid. And extremely good at this job."  
"And he also has a reputation for being late, but I'm letting that slide for now. Next!"

"No. I don't care. Change the name of the project."  
"Oh come on. I had to turn down SkyNet and HAL9000. What's wrong with WOPR?"  
"Shepard, this is, admittedly theoretical, but still high profile work. A project name of WOPR will tell everyone who has seen the damned film EXACTLY what you are working on."  
"Fine. How about EDI?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. That one still smarts a bit, doesn't it?"

"Oh very well, keep it as WOPR. But the test machine gets a different name. Something Nice. Just in case. Don't want to run the risk it'll get pissed off just because you gave it a stupid name from Pop Culture."  
"How about Subject Zero?"  
"Shepard. If I could fire you right now, I would. NEXT."

"Excuse me Mr Harper, Mr Shepard, we had a call from Sally at Security. Anderson has reported a Class One, and needs you onsite at his location. ASAP. Should I alert the drivers?

Jack shook his head. "Just mine, Shepard and I will be taking the same car. I want to return here once we have finished handling whatever issue Anderson has found."

Shepard requested Reception to notify all team leaders he would be unavailable for an unknown duration, and to continue with planned testing until further notice. The two heads of Cerberus then quickly made their way to the main entrance, where their transport awaited.

The trip to Cerberus Security was made in virtual silence. As soon as a Class One was declared, all communication regarding the matter was to be held in a face to face environment only, on a secure site. In other words, one of the three main Cerberus sites, or curiously enough, Anderson's home.

No matter what anyone did (and Cerberus had tried themselves), Anderson's home remained totally secure from any attempts at bugging or remote listening.

Anderson was waiting at the main entrance as soon as they pulled up outside. "My office gentlemen, I think we have an investment opportunity" said Anderson with a full grin, sweeping his arm out gracefully to invite them inside.

'Damn, laying the bullshit on a bit thick there aren't we? Must be pretty bad' thought Shepard as he grinned back and clapped Anderson on the shoulder as they walked in. The trio were soon in Anderson's office.

Jack waved his hand at the Vodka and empty glasses. "That's not a good sign." then sniffed delicately at the air. "And what the hell is that smell? Have you got a dead cat in here somewhere?".

Anderson dropped into his chair. "You can either have the bottle of good stuff cracked open now, or after I tell you what this is about. I recommend now. It ain't a pretty story. And to be honest, this could make or break everything we are planning".

Shepard's jaw dropped open at that "I knew you wouldn't be calling a Class One for anything minor or stupid, but really? That bad, after what we have, you know. Seen. Done. I mean, seriously, you guys both DIED?"

Jack looked at Anderson and sat down in one of the chairs, and quickly stood up again, holding up his hand, looking at it. "Considering I have what looks like blood on my hands, literally, you can open the good stuff now".

It took nearly an hour for Anderson to bring them up to speed, and several glasses of the good stuff. Also known as Moonshine. Even the more alcohol resistant bodies of the trio would succumb to this particular brand of poison. Eventually.

And by then, Jack and Shepard were in agreement. They needed it.

"We did some pretty awful things in Cerberus. A lot of it thanks to the Reapers. Others, were purely from our human side I think. David Archer. Subject Zero. But this? I don't remember anything this bad. Maybe on Sanctuary, at the end, but no matter have much I hate it now, that was for the reason of saving the human race."

"The butchery you are talking about sounds like nothing more than a weasel in a hen house." Jack shook his head. "I have to assume it's an unknown race. With viable energy weapons. Cloaking abilities. And again, I am assuming, but an FTL drive."

Shepard nodded agreement "If the Relay was open, the astronomers would have picked it up. Spectography would have jumped back with a big chunk of *unknown element* which would have shaken the scientific community. Telescopes would be used to see the object - which is obviously artificial. So no, definitely no ME tech involved, unless there is another Relay that we never discovered. Extremely unlikely"

"Let's face it, whatever it is, it's a Safari hunter. Might even be an outlaw, equivalent of those rich bastards who arrange manhunts for fun. Hell, they might have Earth listed as a 'protected planet'. Or, we might have a big sign saying 'good fun, decent weather' pointing at us." added Anderson.

"Well, that heat wave has moved out from Central America. It's rolling towards winter up here. We won't be seeing the little shit again for a least a few months. I think we give Dutch and Anna some time to recover, and ask them to go back in. Whilst it's still cool down there" proposed Shepard "but this time, we put in several teams, and train them for what to expect, just in case and also instruct them to keep the locals at arms length. With extreme violence if needed".

"You know, I called Dutch here because I thought he would be the right person to start up the SA operations. We are going to need that early foothold for the Platinum, especially when things start going screwy in a couple of years. At the moment, we can build a stockpile of the stuff by doing sanction busting. We need connections and a security force in place before the current regime starts collapsing. And assuming the USSR is going to go the same way, we will need an equivalent operation in place to pick up key personnel and equipment".

"We can afford a few months Anderson. Depending on what happens with this, we may not even need that platinum. I am loath to use yet another advanced tech that wasn't developed here, but we may be able to reverse engineer items. And as long as it uses easily available materials - no Eezo for example - we can adapt it into our own arsenal".

"Okay, totally off the wall idea. What if we could talk alliance with these guys?"

"A surprising question Shepard, though I suppose it shouldn't be, considering you brought together pretty much every single race in the Galaxy before. I think we leave that one for now. This is too soon, too fresh. We don't know enough. They might be the advance wave of an invasion force for all we know." said Jack. He paused, deep in thought, then spoke again.

"What I do think is we head back to R&D. You find the right team to start looking up heat wave patterns for the US mainland and Mexico. See if we can predict where heatwaves are going to land, and then we can monitor the news for brutal murders, that sort of thing. I want to know if these things are playing in our backyard".

"And if they are?" asked Anderson.

"Then the hunters will have a taste of being the prey." 


	8. 08 - Reach for the Stars

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - 1987 is nearly here!

Chapter 08 - Reach for the Stars.

It had been nearly a month since the disturbing meetings with Anna and Dutch had take place, and Shepard was getting very close to exploding.

"Look at this logically" he growled at Hancock, the recently assigned team leader for the GHP (Global Heat Pattern) research team.

"NASA and weather stations have been keeping temperature records for decades. Newspapers from local areas have historical records of major weather events. Eventually we want to build a record for the world, initially I want something we can look at for North America. Something that will say on such and such a day the temperature jumped or dropped in a local area by 5 or 10 degrees. And then we can look at the weather events in the surrounding areas. Look for patterns."

"The records are incomplete! And they don't take into account urbanisation, all the new buildings and roads constructed in the last 20 years! The impact of industrial pollution!"

Shepard's jaw clenched and his hands curled into tight fists.

"Must. Not. Kill." He muttered under his breath. "Hancock, I'm going to say this one more time. Contact the NWRC. Tell them you need their data. Tell them you will pay. Tell them to contact the Pentagon if they need clearance for some reason. Now get out of my office, and do your job". Shepard watched Hancock throw his hands in the air in frustration and stomp out his office, slamming the door.

Shepard counted carefully to ten. Then another ten to be sure. Then picked up the phone and dialed Jack.

"Jack? Shepard. Just had a run in with our GHP pain in the ass again. He reminded me about something though. Remember are all that climate cooling and climate warming scare mongering from the 20th and 21st? Yeah, that's right. The Ice Ages and Global Drowning that never happened? I doubt we can stop it happening again, but we might be able to get a head start on it all, get into prime position if we have pre-built databases and analysis. Drive the panic the direction we want. Bottom line? I'm thinking billions in funding for studies. A-huh. A-huh. Absolutely. Okay, I'll refrain from pushing him in front of a Graser. And yes, I have to go."

Anna and Dutch had since returned to Anna's home town. Anna had been placed on extended leave, as her University want to

'help her recover from the traumatic events'. Dutch had officially been assigned as her bodyguard, at the insistence of Anna to her mother. Cerberus Security was more than happy to accommodate her, anything to keep Anna both safe and reasonably stable. Dutch? He certainly wasn't complaining, at least not to Anderson. There had been a discussion between Dutch and Anderson before he had left to join Anna.

Anderson had confirmed to Dutch that Cerberus were going to do some work to try and predict heatwaves in the near future, and investigate historical instances for news of unusual events in the area. Even if they didn't find anything in the next month or two, Anderson was hoping Anna and Dutch would return to the Mayan site, with several teams as protection from pretty much anything, for any additional evidence or information that could be hunted down.

For the present though, Anderson was drowning in research. Unless something changed, he knew Jack wanted him to move forces into Colombia and perform a takeover of the largest cartel. His biggest problem was two organisations that already existed

in Colombia - ACDEGAM and MAS. Between them, they had (it was suspected) over 700 members who were trained in Paramilitary operations. Even more disturbing, they were well equipped with modern military hardware, and according to his sources, even had their own air support. Much like the actual Cartel takeover though, the solution seemed to be to cut the head off and take over.

If he could find the heads.

On top of this, he was desperate to get the South Africa operation of the ground, to get at least a small team into the area. If they were going to secure the resources they needed, they would need the business and military contacts first. And with Dutch no longer available as his primary candidate, he was pretty much back to square one. He just hoped Jack and Shepard were having better luck.

Meanwhile, over in one the Cerberus Research and Development conference rooms...

"Alright every, settle down. I guess you are all still feeling pretty bloated from Thanksgiving. I dragged you all in here for a quick rundown on some progress made this year, which we covered, good job everyone, and next we are going to look at some areas we are going to be focusing heavily on next year."

"First, before we move onto the New Year projects, we need to talk about annual leave. If  
anyone has asked for it over the Christmas and New Year period, get it approved ASAP. And consider taking some yourself, as next year is going to be pretty damn tough."

Shepard smiled at his team leaders, roughly thirty scientists, tech specialists and engineers, ranging in age from early twenties through to late seventies. Here and there a lab coat, more likely jeans or trousers and an obscene or funny T-shirt.

Nobody looked particularly manic or stressed for a change, thankfully.

"Second thing, pay rises and bonuses. Everyone has pulled their weight, and no, that wasn't a fat joke Daniel" the room chuckled as Dan slapped his significantly padded stomach "and thanks to the government returning some of our taxes through the Star Wars funding, Jack can still put down a deposit on that second mansion" everyone groaned and laughed when a well aimed paper ball arched from one of rooms front corners and bounced off Shepard's head.

"Bottom line" said Jack, standing and walking to the front of the seated lab heads to join Shepard "Cerberus as a whole is doing great. I'll tell you the same as everyone else, there is ZERO chance of the company floating. I like it the way it is"

He politely ignored the quiet groans at the lost opportunity for easy money "But, pay rises between 3 and 6 percent are approved, and the bonus will be a full 10% this year. Personally, I thank you all for your efforts, and as John mentioned, we have some big plans. Check out the screen here is the first one".

The room quieted down and everyone took a look at the projected image. On the left side, the schematics for a very large structure appeared, looking like four large boxes attached to the sides of a large pair of thin towers. On the right, an artistic redenition of the finished article, which included a large bank of what looked like solar panels.

"That don't look like MIR" called out a Texan voice from the back "Are the Russki's planning to build a new one?"

"No, but we are", stated Jack with a hint of smugness in his voice. "Gentlemen, meet the Cerberus Freedom station".

The room exploded into a dozen conversations and shouted questions and points. Shepard and Jack looked at each other and waited a moment for it to calm down.

"All RIGHT everyone" yelled Shepard "Good grief. Exciting news I know, but let's have hands in the air to start with." he looked at one of the younger leaders. 'Damn. Even looks like him a bit.' "Jenkins, you have a question?"

Jenkins waved his hand at the station. "With all due respect sir, we don't know nothing about Aerospace. Isn't there another big company that deals with this, like, oh, NASA?"

Quiet comments of agreement filtered through the room, Shepard nodded. "Jack, this one is for you".

Jack turned and pointed at the picture. "Pretty isn't it?" then at the specs beside it. "These diagrams and specifications are actually from NASA. This is their latest proposal, or as much of it as we could get our hands on, thanks to Star Wars. I asked Shepard to take a look at it for a couple of days and form an opinion on viability, efficiency, cost projections, etc. Remember when I asked him to do the same for the Graser?"

** FLASHBACK ***  
"And hand me that doodad from over there. I think this should go here and YOUCH! okay reverse it and this time don't touch that coil. Why do I think Positrons? Okay are you taking notes? You better be taking notes Johnson."  
"It's Jenkins, and why do I need to take notes on everything?"  
"Because I haven't got a clue what I'm doing it just seems RIGHT. Now hand me the 3/8, I have a horrible feeling that tube shouldn't be humming like that..."  
** END FLASHBACK**

"Well he didn't spend the weekend building a space station, but he gave me his honest technical assessment first thing Monday morning. He said, and I quote 'It's an extremely inefficient piece of crap, not worth the money to lift the scrap metal into orbit in the first place, and it'll never make it past the first budget cut'."

"Oh."

"And then I said" interrupted Shepard "give me half the same level of funding and a couple of years with the boys in the labs, and I'll give you something three times the size that will WORK. And I just KNOW you don't want to make me into a liar. Right?".

Jenkins nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Okay, next one from the guy climbing on top of everyone at the back...Dan, right?" said Jack, ignoring the groans and swearing from the crushed team leaders that Dan had sabotaged by sitting on top of.

"Now I'm as much a fan of blowing shit up as any of my brethren" drawled Dan in his deep Texas twang "In fact, the phrase 'hey y'all, watch this' could have been invented for me. But we ain't got nothin' that got the BOOM to shift the materials we'd need up into the black. No rockets, and after Challenger, sure as hell no shuttles be flying. So what's the plan?"

"Uhhhhh...Jack. Again" Shepard said with a grin.

"We were going to borrow some from NASA. But then I realised their director would probably play politics and steal our funding before we saw a single launcher. I suggested buying some from the Russians to Anderson and Shepard" Jack paused, watching the reaction in the room with a playful gleam in his eye as it exploded into howls of outrage, and raised his voice to be heard clearly "and then I decided it would be better if we just built our own..."

Shepard held out his hand and let something drop. In the deathly silence, you COULD actually hear a tiny 'tinkle' as something small and metal hit the tiles. Shepard sighed, reached into his pocket and handed Jack a dollar bill.

"Yeah, you heard right. Some of you will find your teams getting much bigger, and we are going to be expanding Jack's company to include launcher manufacturing. May involve buying some small companies that have the necessary infrastructure already, to save us some time. Just so long as no-one straps any warheads to these, we should be fine."

A forest of hands were in the air again "Uhhhh...frantically waving guy underneath Dan. No, the other one. And Dan, please get off him and let him speak."

The middle aged lab-coated gentlemen in question stood up and adjusted his glasses, then straightened his lab coat, glaring at Dan. "I'll get you for that" he hissed, then coughed and in a cut-glass English voice started talking.

"Ah yes, my understanding is that the NASA proposal was both initially and in the amended version, to be both a manned and international effort. With your stated intention of pursuing this lofty goal ourselves, may we assume the manned aspect of the station is still true, but the international component of this effort will no longer be forthcoming? And if it is to be manned, by whom? And would this be a US government sponsored effort, or purely a commercial and private entity endeavor?"

"Uhhhhh...thank you for your clearly presented multiple queries Dr Ellis. And that one is for both myself and Jack."

Shepard cleared his throat and looked at Jack, who indicated Shepard should carry on. "The intention is definitely for a manned station, but not using the design that I reviewed, obviously. Partial funding for this is hopefully coming from the government, so at least some of the personnel will by US Military or NASA. We do intend to train some candidates ourselves, and we DO intend to retain ownership of the station".

Jack took up the response "It will be supplied from our launchers, with our materials and built according to our design. I expect the government to be providing funding and not much else except interference. Initially I won't be looking at international involvement, though that may change. Depends on the offer. But one thing is absolute, this is going to be OUR station, so once we get it up there, it better not fuck up. We are not going to be very popular if it de-orbits over, oh, Moscow, for example."

Collective shudders ran through the room at that possibility.

"Please be aware, this is going ahead, but is at the VERY early stages, we haven't even drawn up the proposal yet. What I wanted to do was, well to be frank, get all of you thinking about ANYTHING linked to this, and get back to Shepard with ideas, problems, questions, you name it. And it goes without saying, until I send word, this is all confidential. Totally." announced Jack.

"And now that we fried your brains a little, next project, much smaller and easier" Shepard clicked his switch and a different slide was displayed.

"You all know about Microsoft and the Windows software it's selling that we are using. Great stuff, easy to use and doesn't cause any troubles with some of the home grown programs we have, right? Well, Jack, Anderson and I come to a bit of a conclusion during one of our movie nights" polite chuckles from the group.

"Pretty much all of the recent sci-fi films involve computers, computers that control or are involved in pretty much everything. And it's true. We are seeing it more and more, every day in our own lives. Hell, for an extreme example, just think about the WOPR project that we are running, and we are certainly not alone in the area."

"Now that Microsoft has floated, it seems to be gobbling up market share for software on desktop machines. IBM pretty much has the business world sewn up for their Desktops, and between them and Unisys, the larger mainframes too."

Jack took up the presentation spiel "Once the price starts to come down on Desktop machines, and in particular as they become more aimed at entertainment, there are going to be millions being sold every month. Commercially the prospect is staggering, and as Microsoft is showing, if you are dominant now, it's going to be hard for anything to eliminate or just reduce that dominance in the future."

" What I want us to do then, is to have an initial Desktop machine that can match anything on the market. At half the price. And I want NEW software on there, which is idiot proof, does everything that Gates can do, just better. Personally, I also want an advanced version for technical users and a basic version of normal users, but I'll settle for just the basic model, as I believe that is where the highest potential revenue will be. And I want it by some point in 1988"

Shepard looked at the various blank, amused and thoughtful faces.

"One thing that Jack didn't cover is we are going to also want this machine to be able to use modems to connect, well, wherever it can connect to. And Anderson will be bringing in security specialists to work on information protection and penetration testing. By security specialists, think 'hackers'. So we will be running a security program over Christmas and the New Year to tighten everything up. Did I mention going on leave around that time was a good idea?"

Arms were thrust into the air, dozens of hands waved, but Jack just shook his head. "Not taking questions on that one today, but again, if you have anything you want to share with Shepard, let him know. And obviously, again, treat that as Top Secret."

Shepard checked his watch "I see we are running close to time, so I'll be quick so we can break for lunch. This final project, well, this one actually ties back to the Cerberus Freedom station, and how we are going to power it."

"I considered the usual solar panels, but they aren't going to give us the juice we really want up there, nor are they going to be very protected. A lost nut from an Apollo that is still in orbit could take out a chunk of them, and then we would need to replace them. Not to mention the loss of power for the poor bastards on the station."

Shepard took a deep breath and dived right in.

"So we are going to design a miniature nuclear reactor, that can be either transported up whole or piecemeal, that can safely operate in a low or null gravity environment, that doesn't go boom if something goes wrong, and that produces at least 100KW of power."

"NASA and the DoE are already looking at it, have been for a couple of years now, under their SP-100 Space reactor Prototype project. In a purely theoretical basis of course. So I want something designed, tested, built, working and ready to be loaded into a launcher to be installed on Freedom within 18 months."

"No pressure". 


	9. 09 - Boys and their Toys

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Love the feedback everyone. In response to a number of reviews, I have been itching to incorporate ideas and suggestions from a number of games / movies, but they don't just exist yet at this stage in the timeline! also, please do remember that the trio has a 200 year scientific and engineering history they are using to push humanity forward, but they have to build the basic advancement up in bite size chunks.

Chapter 09 - Boys and their Toys.

It was February of 1987 before the GHP project started to build a database of any significant size, and it was also that same month when they found their first probable Hunter event in the US. During the recent heatwave of 1980 there had been a statistical spike in the number of homicide cases, as the heat caused increased stress levels, causing normally stable individuals to snap.

In one particular weekend in Fort Worth (Texas) there had been a 'brutal attack', allegedly on a Military Police patrol in the region of Carswell AFB.

Details were sketchy, but careful probing by Anderson through his network of current and previous military contacts had provided three additional items of information.

First, that it apparently had not been a patrol, but rather a heavily armed munitions convoy that had been hit, and the initial term used to describe what had been found at the convoy site was 'bloody massacre'. Secondly, the CIA were involved in keeping the details suppressed, and any further investigation attempts was being stalled.

The final item was a huge red flag though, as several people who were thought to have been part of the convoy, had since suffered alleged fatal accidents over the space of 18 months following the attack, most of which resulted in the requirement for closed casket funerals.

Everything pointed to a National Security cover-up. Still, it was progress. The few facts they had could be used to make any number of possible scenarios, including one that supported their theory, and fears.

The most startling event of the investigation into the Carswell incident was towards the end of February. Shepard was discussing the best superconductor material they had available that had been vacuum / zero-g tested with Freeman.

After a very positive 30 minutes, significant progress had been made for a planned showcase sealed unit demonstration device, but Shepard could see that Freeman - though he was working hard at hiding it - was becoming increasingly tense and nervous. When everything had been hammered out, Shepard nodded to Freeman and turned to leave.

"Shepard" said Freeman in a tight voice from over Shepard's shoulder "just a word of caution. Carswell falls under Majestic. Drop it."

Shepard quickly turned back "Sorry Gordon, I didn't quite catch that last?"  
Freeman blinked at Shepard through his glasses, with a vague expression on his face. "Ummm? I didn't say anything. Might have been gas I guess?"  
Shepard stared for a second, then shrugged. "I guess I was mistaken. I have to go."

The following movie night, the trio laid out the pieces of what they had uncovered so far.

They had a possible Hunter attack. Official reports were vague. When they dug down further, the official reports looked to be a full blown cover-up. The CIA may be involved. Something called Majestic might be involved. And if it was, it apparently was aware of the interest Cerberus had in the Carswell attack.

"Quite frankly, I would find this hard to swallow normally" grumbled Jack "If we weren't already dealing with time travel and million year old killing machines. What did you find about this Majestic, if anything?"

Anderson spoke up first "It's a myth. A hoax. The AFOSI apparently did an investigation and found nothing. Of course, if there was something there, they would had said the same thing. Got to love a good conspiracy theory."

Shepard nodded "Not surprising, but I have a number of true believers amongst the teams, who have given me some background. If Majestic, or MJ12 as it is also referred to, if it actually existed - or still exists, then it was put in charge of the Roswell incident, nearly 40 years ago, by President Truman. And if a Hunter or Hunters are active here, actually within the US, then MJ12 would definitely be a group that would be getting involved".

Jack sighed. "If the Hunter exists, does that mean the Roswell greys are also real? What else could be real? Roswell was never proven to be anything alien related, even from our time. What about other urban myths and historical legends? Do we need to set up some sort of historical research department?"

Anderson looked at Shepard, who shrugged back in response. "If we can afford to set it up, it wouldn't hurt I guess" said Shepard. Anderson nodded thoughtfully. "Shepard, you mentioned you found a Prothean silver ball which had memories of Earth?"

Shepard started and clicked his fingers "Right! We know the Protheans were in system fifty thousand years ago, they left their base on Mars. And I know they were messing around with pre-historic humans. I even got to see the memories of one, from his perspective."

"That's right" said Anderson slowly "but think on from that - who's to say we didn't get a visit five or ten thousand years ago from someone else? Something big enough to be featured in some of our earliest written history? Like, Atlantis?"

Jack scoffed at the suggestion "Oh come on, Atlantis?! THAT is a myth. Nothing has ever been found to even suggest such an city even existed."

Shepard though had paused, a niggling thought worming it's way through his memories. "You mean like there was no proof of what happened to the Protheans, even though we had physical proof they existed? In a system with a Mass Relay, that could have been visited by any number of alien civilisations, not to mention the Reapers? I really don't think we can afford to discard anything without at least some level of investigation, don't you agree?"

Jack shook his head in exasperation "Fine. We can arrange something appropriate. I will see what I can arrange from a historical culture perspective, maybe some museum curators or specialists. Anderson, please have a word with Anna. Hopefully she can identify some people from her fields to join, and if she feels up for it, I am more than happy for her to be the head. Her and Dutch I assume. And Shepard, see if you can dig up a few of the tinfoil hat group to include. Some of the less batshit crazy one's please."

"I can't believe we are doing this" Anderson chuckled "you know if the media get a hold of this, Cerberus is going to take pounding from the scientific community?"

"I can accept that" Jack grinned "especially if they are being negative just as we finish building a real space station over their heads. Now THAT I can spin in Time magazine perfectly."

Cerberus was already making a name for itself in a number of scientific circles. The unconfirmed reports of an operational Graser had members of Alamos grinding their teeth in frustration. The inclusion of Cerberus in the Star Wars project was being monitored by NASA with increasing apprehension, as long running NASA technical studies were starting to regularly be upstaged be Cerberus that were produced quicker and, well, were overall better than the NASA ones.

Cerberus security seemed to constantly be expanding, and was becoming increasingly popular. The unofficial motto of 'less of our clients end up dead' was being born out as South and Central American kidnapping and assassination attempts were continuously blocked when Cerberus Security was the guarding force.

Anderson had at the start of the year finally selected several small teams who were now making progress in South Africa. The willingness of several of the team members to merrily accompany South African special forces and internal security on missions, in some instances missions that had very questionable goals, was definitely forging strong links.

Word was filtering back through the SADF that the Cerberus 'private' units were professional and willing to do whatever was needed to complete the mission. The willingness of Cerberus to provide a supply line of restricted goods was also building goodwill in certain quarters.

It looked like Jack was going to be able to build his platinum stockpile after all. And hopefully over the next year, Cerberus Security would have successfully identified and recruited the extra bodies it needed to move to phase two. Colombia.

Early March saw the scientific profile of Cerberus raised again, when they were invited to present at the American Physical Society, on the subject of high-temperature superconductors. The Cerberus theoretical presentation was well received, until Shepard walked on stage and announced he also had a physical demonstration he would like to share, using a heavily guarded sealed unit. No concrete details of the contents were provided, but the material inside was show to be of superconductor quality, and to operate at this level at the previously unheard of temperature of 133K.

The reactions ranged from outraged rants about voodoo science through to increasingly strident demands that the sealed unit be immediately shipped to Los Alamos for "proper testing and analysis". Shepard just smiled and shook his head "The only way you'll get to see inside that unit" he said as Cerberus departed "is if you come and work with me".

Unsurprisingly applications increased over 300% over the next six months, in particular from the younger levels of the community. Anderson was heard to be cursing Shepard's theatrics several times, as unfortunately, Anderson's already stretched departments were stuck with the additional required security vetting for the new applicants.

Cerberus had been working hard on the promised adaptation of a Graser unit into a local defence installation for months, and made a breakthrough at the end of March, and requested the opportunity to provide a demonstration of progress so far.

The prototype unit was pretty strange looking. A fairly large steel cube with a nozzle in the center surface of the top face, pointing straight up. Suspended above the nozzle, perhaps a meter above, was what looked to be a 30cm diameter crazy love child of a gyroscope and a disco glitter ball. Eight inverted cones surrounded the base of the cube, with the widened mouth of each pointing towards the horizon at an angle.

It was currently sitting in the middle a field in Texas, surrounded by hundreds of meters of nothing. The field was part of a farm, which Cerberus had bought the week earlier.

On site were representatives from each branch of the armed forces, including this time a Marine colonel. Several Cerberus security teams patrolled the area at a distance of six or seven hundred meters from the device. The only other Cerberus staff were Shepard and Dan, who had devoted a lot of his last few weeks ironing out the kinks on the prototype unit. They had a small table with them, on which rested something which looked suspiciously like a large remote control for model aircraft.

"Morning all" started Shepard "we are going to keep this quick. You've each got goggles to avoid any glare. The device sat over there" he waved three hundred meters away "is our very first local anti-ballistic defence graser unit. Doesn't have a fancy name yet. Dan calls it Hannah, but that's just Dan. The cones on the outside are LIDAR, scan range eight hundred meters on a good day, nothing will get impacted by those, we made sure this place is dead for air traffic. Might screw up some birds, but hell, who cares".

Shepard jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back towards a barn. "Power supply is back there, cables have been dug down and run under the unit. We had a break through on that too, thanks to the improved batteries and capacitors. If you listen you can hear the generators already working, they have been on for about thirty minutes"

He then stabbed his finger back to the unit "The Disco ball of doom is effectively a gyroscopic lens. The LIDAR data is run through a program, the graser fires straight UP, into the lens, which then targets the beam as needed to intercept he highest priority targets. We do have some dead spots in the coverage, mostly due to the mount for the lens" he pointed at the four legs that the disco ball was supported by, "but this is proof of concept more than anything".

Dan stepped forward and waved his arm in a sweeping circle, indicating the surrounding area "Our boys out there on patrol have a dozen tennis ball machines setup. They are going to switch on at least two of them, no idea which ones, you guys get to pick how many and which numbers. If you don't want to choose, myself and Shepard will roll dice to pick two. They will fire tennis balls into the target area, ten balls per machine. The modified graser has a one fifty to two fifty meter range, depending on conditions. That's potentially 120 incoming projectiles over a period of around 40 seconds."

There was a quick look between the officers, the Marine Colonel summed up the thoughts.  
"If you are going to do it, might as well see how it handles everything being thrown at it. Incoming don't always come in one or a few at a time. Make it rain."

Shepard pulled up his goggles and indicated everyone else should do the same. Dan pulled up his goggles and made sure everyone was doing the same. He picked up the remote from the table, extended the aerial and aimed it towards the cube.

"Arming unit, standby..." he flicked a switch and a loud hum could be heard from the unit. The disco ball twitched in it's settings and one of the officers pointed at a bird that had just flown through the zone.

"That's a promising start" smiled Dan, and he nodded to Shepard, who held his radio up. "All teams, test unit Hannah is active, test protocol is full swarm, say again, full swarm. Switch them all on please". Shepard heard Dan whisper to himself 'Hey Y'all...watch this'.

The observing officers waited with anticipation, and within seconds there was a high pitched whine from the unit, and a green tinted glare seemed to leap up into the disco ball.

"Holy Mother of God" was heard from one of the observers, as the test area seemed to light up in fire and explosions "IT'S THE RUBBER" yelled Dan over the noise "IT'S LITERALLY MELTING AND EXPLODING IN MID-AIR".

After a minute of noise and fury, the unit suddenly fell quiet, and the frantically rotating disco ball came to a halt.

"Uhhhhh...that's not so good" grumbled Dan, looking at the smoking dirty grey ball that was all that was left of the gyroscopic lens. He pointed the control at the unit again, and switched it off.

Shepard handed out several pink tennis balls to the others. "Just throw them into the area as we walk forward, just to make sure it's actually safe. The balls fired into the zone were all yellow, so we won't get them confused".

The additional improvised safety test completed, they entered the test zone, gingerly stepping over a number of smoking chunks of melted rubber. Dan waved his hand in front of his face to try and remove some of the smell. A quick count of the intact balls in the area brought a big toothy grin to his face.

"Just to confirm that would be 82 out of 120 totally nuked, and another 5 that were singed. I reckon that must have been about the time the lens was failing. Pretty good for our first major test of concept don't ya think?

The officers took another look at the target zone littered with destroyed projectiles. After a quiet discussion they confirmed that yes, Christmas was early this year. And how soon would a fully operational model be ready for real trials?

They might have to redesign and rebuild it. They would still have to put the unit through the various evaluation committees.

It would still have to pass months and possibly years of trials. But even if Star Wars fell through, Cerberus had the US Armed Forces full attention for the 'baby brother' of Star Wars, the local defense system. Shepard just knew they had a viable weapons platform. Maybe they would call it Hannah, High Altitude something something? Whatever.

Now all he needed was a fire extinguisher for the melted and still hot tennis ball that was stuck to and oozing into his shoe. 


	10. 10 - Big Game Hunter

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - I know that this story won't be to everyone's taste. This is going to be one of those chapters where a lot of people may choose to give up - sorry. For those who do choose to stick around, I have a feeling this is going to be a very long ride! This one will get us to Mid 1987. Oh, and any bits of Spanish are courtesy of Google Translate, any mistakes are entirely my fault, as always.

Chapter 10 - Big Game Hunter.

It was the start of April when Shepard received his summons to Cerberus Logistics, regarding "his latest demonstration".

Jack leaned back in his leather office chair and glared at Shepard, who was stood calmly in front of Jack's desk. Anderson was stood to one side, leaning against a wall with his arms folded, watching the pair with amusement

"You bought a farm" started Jack, pointedly ignoring the sniggering from Anderson. "You installed an incredibly expensive and totally experimental weapon system on this farm. You then proceeded to not only activate this system in a public environment, you also did it in front of not one, not two, but FOUR ranking members of the US Military, covering all branches. You - Anderson, would you please STOP THAT!".

Anderson was now holding one hand against his side, tears streaming down his cheeks as tried to muffle his howls of laughter.

Jack shook his head, and then slumped forward, face buried in the palms of his hands.

"I have no idea how many regulations and laws you have broken by your foolhardy action, I have one of my legal teams trying to count them all" his muffled voice announced "any other news you want to share before have Anderson take you out the back to be shot?"

"Sure. Half of my teams are running 18 hour days, and living off either Mountain Dew or Coffee. And those are the healthy ones. I've lost two team leaders and a dozen staff members to either breakdowns or exhaustion. I'm pretty sure the majority of the tech advances I've been sneaking into their designs have been found, as I now spend 4 hours a day on average just answering any number of questions about them."

Shepard's voice gradually rose, as he started to pace back and forth in front of the desk.

"I've got infiltration attempts every day, and at least two honeypot attempts have been made on just ME. I am pretty sure anytime one of the staff goes home, they are being tailed. I have two labs with partially constructed space reactors and two labs we have been forced to fill with lead shielding as a temporary measure from two other attempts."

"My only disco ball - which cost three million dollars by the way - is now a very large and expensive paperweight. I have engineering people SLEEPING in the Cerberus station components in the middle of their construction. How any of them are not dead yet, I have no idea."

Shepard paused as though mentally reviewing a list of issues.

"Oh, and someone delivered six THOUSAND tonnes of highly explosive Rocket Fuel, to a set of laser and graser testing labs. Not to mention Freeman has been making progress on the S.A.M, which means I'm expecting his lab to disappear into a fireball any day now, if not the entire of R&D"

Shepard stopped his pacing and stabbed his finger at Jack. "Thanks to YOUR deadlines, I don't have time for the rules and procedures. I don't even have time to sleep anymore. So as far as your little hissy fit about Hannah goes, fuck you, fuck you VERY much JACK."

Anderson walked over to Shepard and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Woah now, calm it down son. We both know you are under a lot of stress here, thanks to the stuff Q shoved in your head. There is a hell of a lot riding on the engineering you and your teams are doing, but I had no idea it had got so bad, so quick"

"I second that" said Jack, now sitting straight up and alert "I apologise Shepard, I was unaware the teams were fracturing so badly. Forget the legal side of the testing, that's for me to deal with. And the armed forces loved it, I can work small miracles with their support for...Hannah. We certainly can't afford risking projects or people from basic exhaustion".

"I do have a little good news from myself though which might cheer you up" Jack said with a twinkle in his eye. "The fuel delivery was a fuck up, that should have been delivered to the logistics site for storage. Along with the invoice for two Saturn 5 rockets"

Anderson and Shepard both exclaimed in shock. "Seriously, you got yourself a pair of rockets?" spluttered Anderson, whilst Shepard mused "that's really not possible".

Jack nodded. "Close enough to the truth gentlemen. What we actually have is enough separate components to make two full rockets when assembled. I have also asked a number of relevant companies to construct another four sets of components. That will guarantee we have orbital lift capacity for the initial stages. The first stages will be shipped to the Kennedy Space Center once we have confirmed the launch window and payload."

Shepard interjected "what about the current development on Cerberus Rockets the teams are doing? Do I tell them to stop?".

"No, they need to continue that work" was Jack's response "regardless of what some people might think, Cerberus isn't actually a bottomless well of money...those components are expensive. A complete set is going to be well over a hundred million each. We need to produce our own - better, more efficient, and bluntly - a LOT cheaper".

Jack scratched his head, his face twisted in a rare look of concern "But I suppose those teams can slow down development a bit, especially if it will allow you to shift resources to other teams that need it more".

Anderson smacked the back of Shepard's head "and what the hell is this about infiltrators and tailing and honeypots? We've got resources to help out, but we are part of Star Wars! That's National Security right there - tell the FBI! Tell the CIA! Hell, give me concrete details and I'll do it for you"

"Quite frankly Shepard, I should have seen this coming" stated Jack "You were always the person at the head of pretty much every significant event in the future Reaper war. Organising everything. Uniting everything, the tip of the spear as such. Here though, you have two others who you should realise you can totally trust, to share the load as much as we can. And yes, I mean both Anderson and myself."

Jack pushed his chair back and stood. "We all know exactly what is coming. At least twenty thousand Reapers. At least ten times as many destroyers, countless numbers of husks if they get to any majorly populated system. We need a fleet, and we need an army. We need to unite the council races, otherwise they will provide the material for the Reaper husks, and humanity will be left standing alone. I might want Humanity at the top of the pile, what I don't want is for that to be us dead, on a pile of corpses."

"We hear you" agreed Anderson "but we have to crawl before we can even stand, let alone run. I wonder if you are pushing too hard Jack. What are you thinking? Why have we got at least a dozen major projects running in parallel and are building a private army? Is it just because that is how you made it work in the future?"

Jack shook his head "Not quite, it's a simple matter of racing the historical timeline, and getting Cerberus into the key position to take advantage of it. Because in about four years, the USSR is going to implode. And I want Cerberus to pick up the pieces".

Silence.

"Oooooookay" Shepard drawled "seriously didn't see that coming. Amaze us with your crazed plan oh mighty TIM".

Jack walked around to the front of his desk and sat on the edge. "1989, Berlin wall comes down. By 1992, USSR has totally and officially been fractured. The player in these events I am interested in is Russia itself, none of it's satellite states."

"Russia has it own space industry, the Cosmodromes. Siberian and Ural resources, including platinum, gold, oil, gas, and diamonds. A decaying but still functional and powerful Military-Industrial complex. And a people who are used to one person - or a group of people - giving them orders to follow".

Anderson shook his head. "Still not seeing it. I mean, yeah, nice idea, and I can probably put ten thousand men together by then, but that's a drop in the ocean. How the hell are you going to conquer RUSSIA?"

Jack waved his hands in negation "Conquer? Who said anything about conquer? I intend to BUY it. Take over the crime gangs, by simply being able to pay any number of Russian ex-servicemen far more than the locals can, buy whatever you need locally, probably from the military, supported by our own resources and personnel and then the Russian Mafia becomes just another sword to the Cerberus armoury. And it will be the blade held at back of those who officially lead the country, ruling from  
the shadows."

Shepard nodded. "Makes sense in a twisted way. Colombian drug money...raised mostly from American drug users, to buy and control...Russia?"

Anderson spoke softly as he thought it through "Which has it's own nuclear arsenal...UN Security Council seat...pretty much self sufficient once you start pumping out the Siberian oil and gas. Ambitious, but surely there is no way we can get away with this, right?".

Jack nodded. "That's what any reasonable person would think. But I see a Cerberus in the public eye, which has in the near future become a powerful entity. Space industry. Energy innovations. Health and food production improvements, local security on a global scale, entertainment, all things that benefit everyone and earn us goodwill."

His face twisted into a sneer Shepard had seen too many times, when Harper was having a particularly maniacal moment "And in the shadows, controlling major crime syndicates, information, private military companies and even entire countries. Manipulating the path humanity takes on it's journey to the stars, and beyond. To be leaders of the Galaxy".

Shepard shrugged and nervously shuffled. "Well, it was good to talk. I need to get back to R&D. I should be going now. Anderson?" Anderson nodded and walked out with him.

Jack grinned evilly as he quite clearly heard one last hushed conversation between Shepard to Anderson as the two left the room.

"He never changes. When EXACTLY did we become the Illuminati..!?" "never mind that, tell me about these honeypots. How hot were they, on a scale of 1 to Miss Lawson...?"

By July 1987 much had settled down. A small but steady trickle of newly recruited security forces were making their way out of South Africa to be integrated into the growing 'reserve pool' in the US. It didn't take long for the newcomers to realise they were training nearly constantly on urban assaults and infiltration / assassination scenarios.

Certainly nothing new for many of the recent additions, though the large number of Spanish signs on the replica urban environments raised a few eyebrows. "You have train to attack, to truly understand how to defend" was the official reason.

"Bullshit" was thought by more than a few who took part in the exercises, but the pay was good and they had the feeling they would be seeing action pretty soon, so they pushed on with training and exercises, day after day.

The Hannah demonstration had been quickly swept under the carpet by the military, and anyone who sniffed around the reports were (in most cases metaphorically) stomped on hard. The test site itself had quickly been rushed through as a Top Secret experimental location, which slammed the door on most queries.

One or two of the investigators into Hannah were just more curious (and stubborn) than was good for them. A short visit from Men in Black, who explained they were looking at a 20 year stretch in prison for breach of National Security if they continued poking around seemed to do the trick

The Committee on Armed Services had been briefed on the projected capabilities of the (currently hideously expensive) experimental system. A proposal had been pushed forward to consider initial funding as a subset of the Star Wars program. It had been pointed out that a local defense system could be developed to potentially target SCUD and FROG heavy artillery rockets and SRBM's, something along the lines of the recently deployed Patriot system.

It was even suggested that continued work of such a system might lead to further developments for smaller, lighter systems, eventually even man-portable units. Though they were never actually mentioned, there was no doubt a number of the members were looking at the possibility of US Serviceman armed with the equivalent of Science Fiction Ray Guns. After discussion, limited funding was agreed, to be taken from the SDI budget.

Anna and Dutch, along with six full teams of Cerberus Security had returned to the Mayan site at the end of May. It was pointed out to the Ministerial level government contact for Guatemala that the previous military escort provided had not been enough, as proven by the fact the Cerberus had needed to extract Anna themselves.

As such, Cerberus would provide and pay for their own security, but would also be willing to fund a local security force to accompany them, as long as it was twice the size of the previous unit. With air support available if needed. Again, to be paid by Cerberus. Oh, and Cerberus was also willing to pay the additional 'fees' needed to smooth over the securing of any relevant legal documentation.

With several million dollars in additional funding finding it's way into the pockets of appropriate corrupt officials, the Cerberus team was flown down to the capital, and a fair sized convoy had quickly been assembled. After most of two days journey along increasingly terrible roads, they arrived at and camped around the Mayan ruins Anna had previously been exploring.

Whilst Anna, Dutch and at least one team of Cerberus Security began to comb the ruins for anything useful, the local military units proceeded to set up their own separate camp, followed by setting up the local security patrols. Which largely consisted of sitting around smoking, playing cards and drinking an ever increasing amount of alcohol from the apparently endless Cerberus supplies.

Dutch has come up with the idea of keeping the locals as drunk and inactive as they could. Basically being paid to sit around all day getting drunk seemed like the ideal mission to many of the assigned soldiers, and they willingly succumbed to the Cerberus strategy.

With local interference kept to an absolute minimum, a thorough investigation of the area could be performed. Jack had secured a three month 'VISA' for the group, which should allow them at least eight weeks on site. Dutch wanted to also see if he could retrieve his team, or at least give them a decent burial, the problem unsurprisingly was Anna, who still stuck close to him at all times.

Returning to the required areas with her in tow would be a recipe for disaster though. Even so, it took an iron will to keep himself focused on the mission, and stay on site - he told himself that his team would certainly have understood. Especially if the extra time spent in this area could find something related to the Hunter.

The internal struggle he faced on a daily basis didn't go unnoticed though by the accompanying teams. They had all received an in-depth briefing on what Anna and Dutch had gone through previously (though the Hunter had been replaced by a 'large, unusually skilled local ambush'), and could see his face twist in frustration when he thought no-one was watching, whilst he stared in the direction of the village they had rescued Anna from.

Weeks of scouring the ruins turned up little new, and both Anna and Dutch were rapidly losing hope, when, in mid-July, an fortunate accident struck gold.

Several members of the local security escort had taken to following Anna, Dutch and their escorting Cerberus Security team around, not out of any dedication to perform their supposed security escort task, but out of sheer boredom.

Plus, Anna was the only woman with the group, and as such, was the only woman any of them had seen in weeks. They had learned to keep their increasingly crude comments and wandering hands to themselves though, after two of the worst offenders mysteriously ran into a wall twenty or thirty times.

Multiple broken bones tends to successfully convey the idea someone is mighty pissed at you.

In recent days the wandering locals had taken to poking and prying the surrounding area Anna and Dutch were currently investigating, normally after Cerberus had moved on. Dutch was fairly sure one or two minor artifacts had been found and hidden away by them, probably for sale to tourists when then returned to the capital.

On this day one of the more competent local soldiers, a private by the name of Julio, had been actively trailing Dutch and Anna's group, just five or ten meters behind, tapping the pommel of his bayonet against the wall of the latest corridor they were slowly examining.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Bored, bored, bored. She might have a skinny ass, but it looks tight...'

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Uh oh, giant angry man staring at me. No, I wasn't staring at her ass. Honest. Hah, he looked away. No broken bones today.'

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Bored again. Got to get back to somewhere with some whores, I think my balls are turning black and are going to drop off from lack of use...'

Tap. Tap. Crunch.

Crunch? Julio paused and looked at the small gap in the wall, where he had apparently knocked a stone back into a hollow of some sort. He stepped up to the small dark hole and shone his torch inside, wobbling it from side to side to try and see all around. Didn't look like much, maybe a couple of feet deep, but something silvery glinted at the back.

He looked up and saw the others had carried on a little further down the corridor. Hmmm. Maybe he could quickly snatch whatever was in there and take it without anyone noticing? He checked the gap again. Didn't look like anything nasty in there. No spiders or snakes. Fuck it.

Julio stretch his left light inside the gap, and his fingers touched on a smooth curved surface, didn't feel like stone. He wiggled his fingers around, noticing some bumps and gaps in the...shit, are those teeth? It's a fucking skull. Julio paused, and then one finger touched something cold. Felt like ice, hard and -

"ARGH Joder, mi puto dedo, mierda! (Fuck, my finger, shit!)"

Julio whipped his arm out of the hole and stared at this finger, blood pouring out of the deep slice the object had effortlessly opened in his gently questing flesh. He grabbed a (not particularly clean) cloth from his pocket and quickly wrapped it over the wound, realising he had quickly gained an audience, one part of it particularly large and now paying close attention to him.

Weapons had been drawn by the group and were pointing down the not yet explored corridor, and back the way they had come from. The one called Dutch had a large machine gun raised towards his direction, not pointed quite at him though. He seemed to be looking at the roof and wall, powerful flashlight scanning the surfaces.

"Julio, what is it? Are you okay? Did something hurt you?"

Julio realised any chance of keeping his findings secret had been totally lost. Especially with the blood dripping onto the floor from his savaged finger.

"The wall, I made a gap in the wall - by accident! - and there was a hole, with something sharp in there - I didn't know! Cut my finger, stings like a sonofabitch. Look at it!"

Julio held up the hand and cloth, showing an impressive amount of blood for what should have been a scratch.

Anna hustled forward and grabbed his hand between hers, ignoring his muttered curses "Oh hush you big baby. Jones, give me your canteen, we need to wash this out, there's a fair bit of blood, something might be stuck there. No, clean...clean cut too. Deep."

Jones, the head of the Cerberus Alpha team, handed over a clean wadded cloth and Anna thanked him "Julio, just wrap it in this and keep the pressure TIGHT, should slow it down. Looks like it was down the finger, not across, so we won't be needing to stitch anything back on!"

The rest of the team still had their weapons at the ready, Dutch meanwhile had snapped the safety on his weapon and rested it against the wall, within easy reach. He pulled out a small rock hammer from his belt, and began taping away around the edge of the hole, working another stone out of place.

Dust trickled down from the wall from the vibrations, but nothing else seemed ready to move. His much more powerful light, and the wider gap revealed more than Julio had found.

"It's a small alcove by the look of it. Skeleton seems to be pinned to the wall opposite me. I see something shining"

"No! Don't touch it, I just put my finger on it, and it fucking sliced me!"

Dutch nodded and Anna tapped him on the arm and offered him a pair of long nosed pliers. "Try these, see if can tease it loose?"

He replaced the small rock hammer on his belt and took the offered tool, and stretched his arm carefully into the hole, probing and carefully manipulating the shiny object, or at least tried to "Not glass, looks like metal. Damn it's in tight."

Anna glanced to Jones and Julio, who indicated he was fine. "Dutch, this is by far the most interesting thing we have found so far. Can you, you know. Force it out, without wrecking the skeleton or doing any more damage to the alcove?"

Dutch withdrew his arm and aimed the flashlight back down the hole, studying the area closely and shook his head. "It's actually wedged into the skeleton, through the mouth into the spine. I can drag it back, but it's going to ruin the remains at least. We could try to widen the gap, but that runs the risk of the wall starting to come down. Maybe even the corridor if enough wall crumbles."

Anna looked up at several hundred tons of Mayan pyramid above their heads. "Lets try to avoid that then..." Anna leaned in closer to Dutch's ear and whispered "I want it. I need it. This could be the proof Anderson needs." she glanced at Julio, who was starting to get a bad feeling "and it needs to be kept a secret so we can get it out of the country...don't you think?".

Dutch nodded, and Anna stepped back. "Julio, come here" called Dutch in his command voice, causing Julio to step closer automatically without thought. Julio gulped a little at the feral smile Dutch directed at him.

"Julio, we want to take this object, and keep it ourselves. I'm going to have to break the skeleton to get it. And we don't want to share it with anyone. We don't want anyone to know. Especially your commanding officer, squad mates or anyone from the government. Now there are a couple of ways we could do this..."

Julio was starting to sweat now, he had seen what happened to the last people this Dutch had gotten angry with.

"But what I would like to do is buy this thing from you. You found it, so I think it's only right you should be able to sell it to me, right? I think perhaps five hundred dollars would be a fair price?"

"Two thousand" blurted Julio in a counter-offer and inwardly cringed 'am I fucking crazy? Why did I say that!?'

Dutch chuckled and gently tapped Julio on the head with the pliers. "Balls of brass this one. Half a dozen armed men surrounding him and he haggles. One thousand. Not a cent more".

Julio jerked his head up and down in a hurried nod of agreement. Dutch chuckled again "and not stupid either. Might just have a spot for you in Cerberus Security if you are interested, but we can talk about that later. Jones, please give Julio his money. I'll pay you back when we return to camp".

Dutch turned back to the hole with his face set in granite like determination, whilst a profanity muttering Jones opened his wallet and passed a handful of bills to a relieved and smiling Julio. Once again the pliers entered the hole and this time were securely snapped onto the metal edge. Everyone stepped back to give Dutch room as he began.

Muscles bunched as Dutch started to pull back, adding his weight to his effort. Seconds ticked by, with neither Dutch or the object giving way. A low rumbling growl started to build from Dutch, and veins popped out on his arm, neck and forehead, as blood rushed to his face.

After a nearly minute long battle, there was a roar from Dutch, and his arm ripped back from the hole, hand still clamped around the pliers, and the prize securely wedged in his grasp.

He stood panting and held up the pliers into the light, Anna and Julio clustered closer to see what all the excitement had been over. Jones directed the team to keep the corridor covered...just in case.

Shining in the flashlights was what looked like approximately three inches of a knife blade. A heavily serrated knife blade, with no hilt, possibly snapped off. And a knife blade that was untarnished, even though it had presumably been embedded in it's victim long enough for the corpse to become a skeleton.

"Dutch, that wall was either original construction, or pretty damn close. And this pyramid is over a thousand years old, guaranteed. The Mayan's didn't use steel, or anything like it. And none of the European explorers had reached here by that time. And considering it's untarnished and still incredibly sharp, I really really doubt this is steel."

Anna's excitement quickly shifted to apprehension, and her excited stare at the silver blade become the same as though she had been watching a deadly snake, ready to strike at her "And I can't be certain, but I really think I saw something like this once before...Hawkins".

Dutch nodded and indicated Jones canteen she was still holding. "Open that up, and let me put this in. It's a good enough hiding spot for now - just don't drink from it!"

Julio had been putting together what Anna had been saying, along with the stories he had heard of the area. Especially the old stories.

"The Demon? You are looking for the Demon?! Only madmen actually go LOOKING for the Demon, and when they got into the jungle, not all of those come back. And you think..you think that blade is a Demon blade?" Julio felt himself suddenly feel faint

"The stories say Demon weapons are cursed. My hand..." He frantically unwrapped the cloth from his finger and held it into the light, turning his hand back and forth as he examined it, but didn't find anything unusual.

"Calm yourself Julio" Dutch reassured "It's just a knife, no witchcraft or Demon magic. It's a very old knife though, so we need to get you back to camp and get some antibiotic shots into you, just in case. And remember, not a word to anyone. You cut you hand on a broken bottle some idiot left in here, right?"

Julio nodded consent "none would believe me anyway. Tell me, you have good whores in America, fine asses?" Anna gave a startled snort at the complete change of subject, Dutch flinched, feeling slightly guilty for some reason as he considered his answer "Yes, if you have the money, America is where you can buy just about anything, why?"

Julio rolled his shoulder in shrug and pointed to the canteen "you paid me a thousand for that, so Cerberus pays well. And I think that YOU think that the blade is proof of the Demon. It's real. And you are hunting it. And if it's real, it's been killing my people for years and years. Cogida que. You pay me, you get me some big titted and fat assed putas, and I'll help you hunt down and kill this fucker. ¿Convenido?".

Dutch nodded in agreement "I don't have final say, but you have my agreement. I think we can arrange for you to be brought with us as a liaison or something for starters. Anna, everyone, let's get back to camp. I need to call this one in. Circulate and let the other teams know we are probably leaving within the next day". Handing the pliers back to Anna, he picked up his weapon and the group trekked back to camp.

Within the hour Dutch was back in camp, but waited until that evening to get onto the radio to contact Cerberus Security. He had a daily check-in each early evening at around 6pm with Anderson, and definitely didn't want to arouse suspicion.

"We've just about given up Sir, Anna has exhausted every accessible avenue without any progress. Unless we are going to EXCAVATE the ruins, I don't think we are going to find anything. Plus, I want a decent meal, PIZZA would be nice, we are down to the local beer too. Unless you have instructions to the contrary, I'm going to order the camp packed up and get heading back?"

There was a pause from Anderson as he checked the key words. Artifact located and Immediate extract.

"Absolutely Dutch, we have spent a lot of money on that site, but I was going to tell you and Anna to return home ASAP anyway. We think we might have an alternate site that needs investigating, but the window of opportunity is tight. There are some Greek ruins that have similar ENGRAVINGS. Better pack LIGHT though, the heatwave over there is brutal at the moment."

Shit. Dutch mentally translated that. Private chartered jet waiting for Dutch and Anna, reports indicate an active Hunter, and full load out combat teams were already on route.

"Roger, will grab Anna and Alpha team and head out now. Others to follow later. Dutch, out".

Dutch scrubbed a hand over his scalp. This was it. Time to hunt the Hunter.


	11. 11 - There is no Overkill

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Sorry everyone, my son has been shockingly sick, dashes to hospital emergency required and all that jazz. Took me a while to get my head back into the game, but he's looking better now. In celebration, we have a new chapter!

Chapter 11 - There is no Overkill

It was amazing how much you could get away with, when you worked for a good sized company that was willing to bribe, threaten and kill to achieve it's long term goals.

In this instance it meant that a hurried call to Cerberus Security with Julio's details was enough to generate the paperwork and documentation for him to be a member of Alpha team, designated as a translator and liaison. It meant a nearly reckless high speed drive back to Guatemala City over some very poorly maintained roads, pretty much shattering both the trucks suspension system and everyone's spine.

It also meant that the entire team had then piled onto the private jet with everything they were currently carrying, including weapons, ammunition and a very important water canteen. All that had been required to skip customs was several handshakes with minor officials, and hundreds of dollars changing hands each time.

The plane was in the air and heading for Dallas. They would need to return to Cerberus Security for a number of reasons, not the least being Dutch and Anna needed to talk to Anderson and find out what the hell was going on. With no direct flights between Guatemala City and Greece, they didn't really have any choice of NOT traveling back to the US, Dutch assumed someone like Anderson was already ensuring travel arrangements for the team to Greece were in hand.

Landing at Dallas required a more awkward dance to ensure all of their quasi-legal materials and personnel were retained, but eventually, after yet another (within the speed limits) dash, less than 24 hours since the previous discussion with Anderson, everyone was gathered in a meeting room at Cerberus Security.

Anderson cast a questioning eye over Julio, who was looking uncomfortable and out of place and flicked a glance towards Dutch. "The kid is with me" rumbled Dutch "and goes with us. He will be my backup escort for Anna".

Anderson nodded and raised his voice "everyone please sit and quiet down, we have a fair amount to cover and you are all flying to Miami and then to Athens in a few hours" he pointed at the recent addition "including you, new guy - Julio, right?"

Julio nodded and Anderson grinned at him "Alright, I'm just going to put it out there. The Demon myth you guys have been helping Anna and Dutch investigate appears to be historical records of..." Anderson's lips twisted in a wry smile "..of a Xenomorph incursion". He paused in anticipation. Silence answered him.

"What, no-one gets the Aliens reference? You guys have got to get some downtime. Okay, yes. Aliens, presumably multiple creatures over at least the last thousand years, either that or they are incredibly long lived individuals and it's the same few. We guess just one species."

"The artifact you have recovered, which is being sent to R&D under armed guard, is physical evidence. Dutch and Anna have already encountered one - which caused the death of Dutch's previous team. And a few dozen rebels."

Julio sat up straight at that and raised a hand "you mean the battles that took place near Flores?" Dutch rolled his eyes "they were massacres Julio, not battles, if we are talking about the same events. The rebels attacked your men near the ruins, wiping them out and taking Anna hostage. Then one of these things, a Hunter, wiped out the rebel base".

Dutch looked at the Alpha team "and if you haven't guessed it, my team found Anna imprisoned at the rebel base. We freed her, lots of evidence of a battle, no bodies. We found the bodies when we were heading to the extraction zone. During the course of our mission, we encountered the Hunter twice. The first time it took one of my men. The second time the three other members of my team tried to fight it, and sacrificed themselves so I could get Anna out."

Anderson nodded and handed a number of slim folders out to the Alpha team and Julio. "Read this - the report does not leave this room. The details are sparse, so it won't take long". The room was quiet for the next fifteen minutes as each report was read and absorbed. Once done, Anderson collected the folders back and continued.

"We have no absolute confirmation a Hunter is in Greece, but the heatwave is starting to cause deaths, so we believe it's hot enough for them to consider it a place worth visiting. We have strong indicators of a recent event in the US linked to a Hunter during a heat wave. The, uhhh, Flores event was during a tropical high. Considering it's a rain forest, that's a heatwave anywhere more temperate."

Anderson paused and took a gulp of water, then continued "The Hunters themselves. They have extreme strength and agility. Cloaking ability, though you can apparently see flickers of movement or a heat shimmer if you look carefully enough. An energy weapon powerful enough to one-shot people, and rapid firing enough to be classed as a .50 cal machine gun. And physical blade weapons powerful enough to both impale a body, and support it's weight. Oh, and at this point we have zero indication we have been able to inflict ANY damage to one".

Dutch nodded. "One important point - if you are unarmed and non-hostile, there is a good chance they will leave you unharmed. The information we have so far indicates they hunt for the challenge. Don't count on it though, we know the one at Flores killed several penned pigs, possibly just for making noise or even it could have been on a whim. We believe the same Hunter allowed myself and Anna to escape when she ensured all of my weapons were discarded. Even knives"

There were grumbles from the Alpha team, and one particularly large member growled sarcastically "so what are we supposed to use? Harsh language?" Jones barked a laugh and retorted "I would say use your wits, but it would be unfair to send you into the fight unarmed..." groans came from the others, though Julio looked confused.

Anderson waited until the casual insults being flung throughout the team members had reduced and continued "the mission is fairly simple. We already have six teams moving into the area, two are already on site, and your larger team will be mission commanders and the last one committed to this mission. We are going to have a loose ring of teams around Athens, with your team at the central point."

"Weapons and comms are already at Athens, and we are using back channels to set up a cover story of a planned raid on a 17N warehouse - that's a Greek terrorist group for those who don't know. I am also giving you clear instructions for your goal. This is a KILL mission. You will not try to play the hero and capture this thing. I expect you to use the biggest guns or explosives you have, and terminate this fucker. We can scrape up the bits if need be for our research".

Dutch nodded, Anderson held up his hand to indicate he hadn't finished "also, as we don't actual know if you can scratch this thing, if you have ANY evidence to indicates an inability to complete the mission objective, abort. Get the hell out of dodge. Worst case, we will find another in a few years and try again."

"One final thing - you are heading into an unsecured environment. Inform the other teams what they are up against at your own discretion. Just don't let any alphabet agencies know what you are trying to do, understood? And try and keep collateral damage to a minimum. That last is from the legal department, just in case. Okay, get out of here. You've all got yet another plane to catch"

48 Hours Later - Athens.

It had been a tiring circular trip, but Dutch had finished briefing the last of his eight teams. Alpha team was currently based at Athens central, where they had commandeered a pair of connected hotel rooms with half decent air conditioning. As Jones had said "no point the team being wiped out in this fucking heat. Plus, the radios work better in the cooler air".

Dutch had subsequently commanded each team to find the nearest hotel and do the same. The idea of combat loaded units standing around in 40+ degree heat for hours and potentially days on end was ridiculous.

All units were monitoring emergency services, especially police reports, and their own squad radios. Each six man team had two on duty at all times. Their Greek language skills were shaky at best amongst the teams, but each had a list of a dozen key words or phrases to be on the lookout for.

Each team had also expressed incredulous disbelief upon understanding they were actually looking for an invisible man-hunting goddamn fucking ALIEN. But, knowledge of what had happened to Dutch and  
his team, and the fact this was coming from Anderson meant they would take his word as truth.

Maybe also with a large bucket of salt, but hell, hard to believe the impossible until you see it for yourself.

And so the waiting began. Athens was almost grinding to a halt under the blanket of oppressive heat. Even when darkness fell, there was no relief. Humidity was through the roof, and the slightest movement left a puddle of sweat.

Night turned to Day turned to Night. Heat exhaustion deaths were being reported every day, as were murders and attack reports. As the unbroken heat continued to steamroller the city for hour after hour, tempers frayed and snapped. Only the lack of energy kept the reports as low as they were, as momentary violent surges collapsed as bodies exhausted from heat betrayed their owners.

It was the night of July 27th, when Team One monitored a report from the suburb of Nea Filadelfeia (New Philadelphia) of weapons fire, which shortly became a call for other emergency units. The key word 'sfagí' (massacre) and key phrase 'Eidiki Katastaltiki Antitromokratiki Monada' (EKAM, Greek SWAT equivalent) were noted.

The call went to Dutch, who ordered the next closest teams of Two and Eight to mount up and head to the area that would be soon swarming in sirens and flashing lights.

He looked at Anna, "and it would make things a damn sight easier for us all if you stayed back. Julio, you are both to protect Anna and make sure to monitor the radios, you call us if anything changes, but ONLY then. Have the other teams arm up, just in case. Jones...bring the heavies".

Alpha team erupted from the hotel rooms, each carrying an assault rifle, additionally with either a FN MAG SAW or a LAW slung over their shoulders. Clad in black ballistic armour, tactical helmets and 'EKAM' stenciled across their fronts, they hurtled down to the hotel garage for the previously purchased black van. Two men jogged up to the sides and ripped off the black covers which concealed the 'EKAM' which had been added to the van.

Dutch hoped that the markings would be enough to provide his team with acceptability in the area. If they didn't, he hoped the 'Top Secret' status of the alleged joint anti-N17 mission would be enough to keep them out of jail if the worst happened.

Of course, anyone who started shouting at them in Greek was definitely going to cause some issues.

The team loaded into the van, and Dutch heard a quiet update over the squad radio "Team One in position, eyes on target area, location appears to be a warehouse, at least four police vehicles in the area. Officers visible outside, uhhhh...vomiting."

"Team Two ETA 3 min" "Team Eight ETA 4 min".

Dutch glanced at the driver, who had his foot pressed to the floor, gunning the engine as the van roared through another set of lights "Five" he yelled, and Dutch keyed the radio "Team Alpha ETA 5 mins".

Dutch could hear sirens in the distance to the sides and rear, hopefully indicating additional emergency response units, and not someone chasing them. "Team One, shots fired inside warehouse, something going down" the ripping cloth noise of a machine gun or full auto assault rifle could be heard, along with shouting, screaming and explosion.

"Team one, no visuals, nothing on thermal, just a blur from the fires...wait, what the fuck was that?...ahhh...stand by" Dutch froze at the loud thumping noise had heard during the transmission. As though something very heavy had landed nearby.

"Three, ETA three minutes" shouted the driver, Dutch toggled the radio "Teams check-in, now". Quickly the other teams responded...all except Team One.

"FUCK!" roared Dutch, and punched the ceiling of the van. The squad radio crackled again "Team Two on site..fuck, it's a warzone. Buildings on fire and some gunfire, we see another one of our vans parked, moving out of contact to check on Team One"

"Team Eight approaching, I see smoke, flames. I see Team Two heading to One's location and WHAT?!" Dutch clearly heard the Snap-Crack of a Hunter energy weapon launching, what sounded like a car exploding and a bellowed "OPEN FIRE" from Team Eight that was answered with a staggering wall of sound as every gun in the world was triggered.

The Alpha team van turned to corner, to reveal a scene that had been repeated many times in any major war zone - though this was evening in downtown Athens. Several Police vehicles and a nearby van were in flames, as was a corner store next to the Warehouse.

Bodies and body parts could be seen scattered throughout the area, and Team Eight was firing hundreds of rounds up at the roof of the corner store, even as Dutch absorbed everything he saw a LAW being extended by a Team Eight member, ready for firing.

In the dark, with the flames dancing and the crash of gunfire, he would never be able to identify what made him look back to the burning warehouse roof, but the flicker of something moving through the smoke triggered every primal instinct.

With a bellow of "Contact! Warehouse roof! All teams engage!" he braced his SAW to steady his aim and unloaded fifty 7.62mm into the area he judged the Hunter to be in the space of four seconds, with the rest of the teams adding their fire to the same general area a scant second or two after him. The already prepared LAW was fired too, swiftly followed by two more SAWs and a second, then third rocket.

The warehouse exploded into a shower of steel, glass and concrete as weapons designed to demolish light armoured vehicles slammed into it repeatedly "Cease Fire!" called Dutch, ears ringing from the massed weapon discharges. He quickly looked around.

"Team Eight, split and find out if anyone from One or Two survived, grab any bodies you can and load them into the vans. Alpha, with me. Reload, we recon fast and then get the hell out of here. If you have ANY suspicion this motherfucker is somewhere, call it and hose it. Jones, take odds, evens, with me."

The hurried clattering of dropped magazines and rattle of fresh belts being fed into SAW's followed, and Alpha split into two teams, Jones and 3 members to the left, Dutch and 2 members to the right. They carefully but swiftly advanced on the ruined warehouse, avoiding the burning vehicles, eyes focused on the roof area that had been hammered by their combined fire.

Jones waved to catch Dutch's attention and indicated the inside of the Warehouse, Dutch shook his head. Too much structural damage, flames and the chance of further explosions meant the risk was far too much.

Dutch stabbed four fingers at Jones and then at his feet, three at himself and whipped his finger around in a circle and pointed to the far corner of the warehouse. Without looking back he tapped the two Alpha squad members on their right shoulders and the trio moved further along the street, towards the corner of the warehouse furthest away from the corner shop, where the wreckage of a wire security fence hung limply, something having smashed through it.

Acutely aware of the howling sirens growing closer by the second, the team rounded the corner, guns whipping up, left, right. Dutch spun on his heel to check the six, the opposite rooftops, nothing. Any human left alive in the area was obviously hugging the floor and keeping as quiet as possible.

"Sir!" hissed one of the Alpha's, and when he felt Dutch moved alongside him, gently moved the barrel of his SAW upwards, and stabbed it towards the wire fence. Looking at the indicated area, Dutch looked for a blur, movement...there. Wait.

That's a dripping, something...glowing?

He looked again at the distorted fence. Something thrown into it. Acted almost like a metal net, catching it. Then, at the glowing dripping...blood.

"Cover me" he quietly ordered and moved towards the fence, pulling his knife and placing his weapon on the floor. The heat of the flames was hot on the side of his face here, not much time. Carefully he scrapped the knife blade against the metal, and then, shielding it from the heat with his other hand, stepped back into the street away from the flames.

For a second he turned this way and that unsure of how best to preserve the fluid, then fumbled for his canteen.

'We are going to HAVE to start carrying some proper storage devices' he thought, and popping the top with his teeth, emptied the water onto the floor. He carefully allowed some of the glowing liquid to drop into the canteen, snapped it shut and attached it to his belt.

"Sir, we HAVE to go" said the same Alpha squad member, Dutch wiped the rest of the liquid onto a reasonably clean cloth, pocketed it and sheathed his blade, then scooped up his SAW. He glanced at the fence, and could see what was left of the glowing liquid was quickly disappearing under the heat from the burning warehouse. There was another *whumpf* of something exploding further inside the already destroyed building.

"Dutch!" yell-hissed Jones, as Jones and his half of Alpha retreated to their van, Team Eight was already loaded. Dutch and his two members quickly jogged back to their van, grunting as they saw they would be sharing it with three partial corpses, only identifiable by the 'EKAM' still visible on their shredded body armour.

Dutch quickly grabbed his radio link and commanded "All Teams, pull back to original points, prep for EVAC. Situation Charlie-Foxtrot. Target neutralised. Alpha out"

Both vans sped into a side street, then down another after killing their lights, ghosting along in the semi-darkness for a few minutes to try and avoid the ever increasing numbers of emergency vehicles heading to their previous location.

Each team worked as best as they could in the cramped confines to load the remains they had recovered and were transporting into bodybags, and flipped down a black cloth onto the floor of each van to disguise as much blood as they could.

Again, if anyone stopped them, they hoped the EKAM signage would be enough to prevent too many questions...or things were going to get messy.

Dutch pulled out the white cloth he had cleaned this knife with out from his pocket, and could see the liquid was still damp, and still doing that weird glowing. He turned in his seat and looked at Jones "here, take this" said Dutch "I think that's Hunter blood. Your number one mission priority is to get that to Anderson or Shepard in R&D. NOTHING else is as important, are we clear?"

Jones nodded and wrapped the cloth in a handkerchief from one of his pockets. "You said, neutralised. Did you mean dead?"

Dutch shook his head. "No body, no fragments. It got away, but something hurt it. Given we dropped enough lead and LAWS on it to fuck up a tank, I'm just glad to know we can make it bleed" He scrubbed a hand across his smoke smeared face

"And the cost just gets higher every time. Two more teams, for what...we pissed it off and got something that might be blood. Not to mention how many police and civilians got killed" He shook his head, feeling fatigue creeping into his system now the  
adrenaline was flushing out.

The two vans separated and traveled back more sedately to their respective hotels. The teams grabbed body bags and weapons and hustled to load them into to a second, clean van also in the Hotel parking, this time with no markings. The teams then stripped off all body armour and threw it into the clean van. Filthy, smelling of smoke, but no longer looking like a SWAT team, they then moved into their respective hotels.

Quick showers and body checks for obvious wounds (and a rib creaking hug for Dutch from Anna) were quickly completed, clean clothes were thrown on, the rooms were swept of everything obvious, and the teams headed back down and checked out.

"Yes, we enjoyed our stay, even with the heat" Dutch confirmed to reception "unfortunately there has been a work accident, and we need to leave straight away" his hand clamped down on the managers own like a steel vice.

"If any of our competitors come sniffing around asking questions and found out, it wouldn't be good" he released the handshake and smoothly switched the four one-hundred dollar bills into the shaken man's palm "you understand of course."

The manager bobbed his head in frantic agreement and wished them safe travels, whilst surreptitiously massaging his bruised hand. Didn't stop him from swiftly pocketing the bribe though.

All equipment and body bagged remains were dropped off at previously unused (by Cerberus) storage lockups for future retrieval (a priority for the bodybags in the current heatwave) and team by team they made their way onto outbound flights, heading back to various European and US cities, to make their roundabout trips back to Cerberus Security.

Meanwhile, Jack Harper was sat in a board meeting, trying to pay attention to several of his direct reports droning on and on about profit margin reductions, and sudden cost increases from rocket fuel purchases and replacement lab equipment to the gradually increasing munition and supply bills coming from Cerberus Security.

'I know all of this..why haven't I heard anything from Shepard yet?' he mused 'or Anderson. Or anything on the news from Greece...'.

There was a knock on the door, and it cracked open wide enough for his trusted bulldog to pop her head through and catch Jack's attention "Mr Harper Sir, Mr Shepard has been trying to contact you for the last ten minutes. He said it's urgent, very urgent and to quote "unless he is taking a shit, get him on the goddamn fucking phone" urgent.' Her mouth twisted distastefully but she faithfully repeated Shepard's message.

'Oh dear what a shame' thought Jack gleefully as he stood "Gentlemen, tomorrow morning 11am, unless I need to rearrange again. I have an extremely agitated genius engineer to talk to, which is either good, or the world is ending in thirty minutes".

With chuckles the upper level management drones exited the room, leaving Jack to mentally flip a coin. 'Heads, my office' he thought, and stood and walked through a side door into his own office. Oh yes, blinking voice mail light, wonderful. To hell with that, let's just call him. Jack dialed through to Shepard's office directly, the phone was picked up after half a ring.

"WHAT" snarled a voice at the other end. 'That sounds like...' Jack thought "Shepard. Harper. I am guessing you have not slept in the last, thirty, perhaps thirty six hours?".

There was a slightly embarrassed silence on the other end, before Shepard sheepishly admitted "Sorry, closer to your second guess. Jack, I've got a problem. I've slightly fucked up. I ran some scans on the artifact, well, by some scans I mean twenty or fifty, I lost track. I, ah, I ended up pulling in someone to help me. Remember the Esoteric Materials head?"

Jack paused. "Ah yes, Freeman. Obviously the correct person to pull in for new and unusual materials. Wait, wasn't that the same person you thought gave that rather curious warning...?"

Jack could almost hear Shepard mentally banging his head off the desk. "Oh yes, that's the one. The same guy who claims the tin-foil hat brigade are idiots, as their protective head gear increases the chance of mind control. Well, that blade shard is a known material, it's mostly titanium. Only problem is, it's super-dense titanium, would have to be from somewhere with a gravity of at least twice what we have. Freeman may be nuts, but he isn't stupid."

Jack pondered this. "Okay, so he's putting two and two together and getting four, we can work with that. What's the problem?"

"Well, remember how I said he's nuts but not stupid? He started to freak out a bit when he reviewed the results, but than calmed down. At least I thought he had. Shortly before I started calling you, I went to see him, but he had left his office. And when I checked with the front desk, the building."

"And the blade shard has gone as well". 


	12. 12 - Black What?

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Anybody else encounter issues accessing FF Net this weekend? That totally sucked. Not terribly happy about this Chapter, but needed to get it out of my head, hopefully it's not too bad, enjoy.

Chapter 12 - Black What?

The revelation that one of their most experienced lab members had apparently stolen a unique alien artifact was met with a surprisingly dismissive reaction.

Jack paused a few seconds for the rest of the information, and then responded "And? That's it? No nuclear meltdown or black hole creation? Awkward and potential concerning, but not exactly a panic situation Shepard".

He listened to the sputtering at the other end of the line and interrupted "hear me out on this. We are not involving the police, obviously. Now that we know physical evidence exists of the Hunters, ASSUMING Freeman has taken it, even if he does something stupid such as throwing it into the ocean, we can probably find more."

Jack continued, pushing past the random noises coming from Shepard's end of the line "Dutch may even have something from his latest operation. Freeman himself has left the R&D premises, but that is all we know for certain. You have been working on this artifact for well over 24 hours, yes? Well, what about Freeman?"

"...what day is it?"

"And that answers my question. The possibility exists that Freeman has gone home to sleep and get a change of clothes. How do you think he would react if we sent a Security force to smash down his front door and shove weapons in his face?"

"...upset?"

Jack sighed and pinched his forehead "It's a rare day when I end up being the voice advocating reasonable behaviour. I know you have a bed somewhere in that R&D complex of yours. Go and get some sleep on it. Give Freeman a day, see if he comes back, see if the artifact turns up. Call me when you are a bit more refreshed, we will talk then".

The mumbled agreement from Shepard's end of the line was enough for Jack, and he disconnected, only for a second line to begin flashing straight away. Frowning he picked it up.

"Harper. CNN, right now? Very well, thank you for the alert, goodbye".

Picking up the remote, he flicked through several channels to CNN. 'TERRORIST ATTACK IN ATHENS?' shouted the current headline and Jack unmuted the TV. He watch and listened for ten minutes before the news anchors started to repeat themselves and start the cycle of eternal speculation of what might have happened, could have caused it and what might happen next.

The details were slim, but he gathered there had been an event in Athens. Explosions, gunfire and many deaths. Police and EKAM were involved, unofficial sources had confirmed there was a counter-terrorism operation scheduled, speculation was the operation had been ambushed.

Fires were raging through the area now, with several streets engulfed, evacuation of the surrounding area was in progress, reporters could not get close due to the area being cordoned off. The death toll was expect to be approaching triple figures.

Concerns were being expressed that further attacks might take place. The biggest current concern however, was the local conditions were ripe for the fire to spread even further out of control and gut Athens.

Jack picked up the phone absently whilst still engrossed in the CNN story, and stabbed the line for Anderson. A quick discussion was all it took to determine that 'events were progressing and an update will be provided within the next 48 hours'. In other words, yes, we were involved and stop treading on my toes.

Jack determined this was one of those times to leave everyone to do their jobs. Time to catch up on some of the blasted paperwork, helped along by a tumbler or three of good quality Scotch...

It was the following afternoon, after Jack had survived the rescheduled staff meeting, when Shepard contacted him.

Apparently Shepard had woken up after 16 hours sleep, scrambled out of his cot, and staggered down the corridor and crashed through the entrance to the Esoteric Materials lab, to find Freeman sitting at several consoles, running the latest set of scheduled tests on the Blade Shard.

When Shepard had glared at Freeman and demanded to know where he had gone, Freeman had responded with a less than deferential "well, some of us like to have something know as sleep occasionally, maybe once a day. Oh, and use a recent invention called a shower" followed by a pointed sniff in Shepard's direction "An invention that you REALLY need to be introduced to apparently".

Shepard tried to ignore the sudden awareness of being less than fresh smelling, and his obviously slept in clothes and immaculate bed-hair, and tried again. "Fine. Did you take the artifact home with you?"

Freeman snarked back "Oh, did the incredibly intelligent bearded researcher take the obviously alien artifact from the poorly secured labs that have a documented history of office and equipment supply thefts? Why yes, yes I guess I did take it home and keep it safe. That's okay, you can thank me later, maybe when the pay rises are decided."

Whilst Shepard was trying to process this, Freeman had continued with his mini-rant.

"Hey, did you know that this thing has a near mono-molecular edge and is partially made up of Anti-Mass? That's a BAD thing. Trust me, I've heard stories or something. Totally wasn't MY fault what happened with the last alien artifact we ran experiments on. Don't you have a meeting or something to attend? You should go now".

Shepard nodded and mumbled his customary 'I should go' as he wandered back out of the lab. 'Did I hear all of that right?'

he thought, running his hand through his dirty hair 'Ugh. Shower, coffee, call Jack. Definitely call Jack'.

Jack mused over the latest information "I want to review Freeman's records again, see where he has worked previously, I am almost certain there was no indication of any history which might be linked to Aliens. I'll also send a message to Anderson to check from his side. For now, continue testing and make sure you are more rested.

I want Dutch, Anna, Anderson and you in a meeting at Security on Thursday. And tell Freeman. Unless we find something the excludes him, he is going to be a part of that meeting".

Two days later, it was a much more rested and presentable Shepard who escorted Dr Freeman to the meeting room in Cerberus Security. Reassuring him for the twelfth time this morning that no, Freeman was not in trouble, the pair passed through the final checkpoint and entered the most secure meeting room in the building.

Seated around a small conference table were the other heads of Cerberus, alongside Anna and Dutch. Jack stood and approached the pair, offering his hand to Freeman.

"Dr Freeman, it's a pleasure to meet you again, I certainly hope your particular brand of brilliance will help our new field of investigation".

Freeman took the hand and looked at Jack wide eyed.

"Holy crap, I never realised I work for a Bond villain! Another one! I should have realised straight away, with the cool sounding Cerberus organisation name, our own private army and crazy science experiments. Haven't found the shark tank yet though"

Freeman released Jack's hand and pulled out a chair at the table and flopped into it, talking non-stop.

"I hear we've even been buying our own missiles, probably to launch death-ray satellites into orbit and rule the world with them - oh, hey, are those Krispy Kreme doughnuts? Everyone okay if I have a couple? Shepard might have a cool ride, but it SUCKS for breakfast."

Freeman reached out and pulled a plate towards him, and then looked up at the other, apparently frozen people in the room.

"Has decent vodka in the bar though. What? Do I have something on my face? Ohhhhh, right, the beard. I know, totally awesome, am I right? Makes it too easy to identify me though, was thinking of shaving it off, but wouldn't be the Freeman without the facial hair. Seriously guys, stop staring. Starting to get a little paranoid here."

Jack shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts "please relax Dr Freeman, if you are feeling paranoid, you are in good company. This meeting is so we can share information and find out exactly who and what is out to, ahhh - get us."

Shepard and Jack took seats and Anderson made introductions around the table. Anderson then moved to the doors and engaged the security lock. Shepard reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box, which he opened and slid into the middle of the table so everyone could see the Blade Shard inside.

Dutch nodded and pushed a similar opened box into the middle, alongside the Blade Shard, revealing a white cloth with smears of a faintly glowing green substance on it.

Anderson pointed at the Blade Shard. "Recovered from a Mayan ruin, the area has a long history of Demon Hunter legends and urban myths. Except they are real.

He slapped two folders on the table next to the boxes. "First folder is the report from Dutch and Anna of their encounter with one of these Hunters in Guatemala. The second is the report from Dutch of his encounter in Athens, Greece, less then four days ago.

Dutch indicated the faintly glowing cloth. "Blood from one of these Hunters. We have another sample which we will be transporting to R&D".

Anna chimed in "we have been looking into other ancient civilisations, and have found several other tales which could be Hunter activity. I also have requested access to British Museum archives in London, hopefully sometime next month".

Shepard indicated the Blade Shard. "Initial tests confirm it's not anything we could make with current technology. Hell, apparently Dr Freeman here thinks it has something he calls Anti-Mass as part of it's structure."

Freeman obviously wanted to say something at that point, but was prevented by a mouth crammed full of doughnut. Jack took the opportunity to add another little piece of information.

"We also have uncovered signs of at least one recent US visit by these things. As you know Dr Freeman, the covered up attack on the military convoy, that you tried to warn us off from further investigation. And you appear totally accepting about the Alien references and proof we are gradually accumulating. Obviously you know a little more than you have shared so far...correct?"

Freeman grabbed a glass of water and chugged it back to clear his mouth. He coughed into his hand and gasped as soon as he could clearly breath again. Looking around the table at the other curious faces, he shrugged and said "Busted".

He scratched his beard and indicated Anna and Dutch. "Do these two know anything beyond the stuff sitting on the table? Well, looking at their blank looks that's a no. If I share what I know, are the three dog heads going to share what THEY know? And include Alice and her Mad Hatter here in the trip down the rabbit hole?"

Shepard glanced puzzled at Jack and Anderson. "Alice in Wonderland" murmured Jack to Shepard. He cocked his head questioningly to Anderson, who nodded agreement.

Shepard spread his hands out "it would certainly make things a hell of a lot easier from my side if someone knows what the hell we are doing and why, just in case I blow myself up, right?"

Jack nodded and indicated the others at the table. "What we are going to share, is something that must NEVER be discussed anywhere except here, or at Movie Nights at Anderson's home if you are invited. Before another word is said, I will have your agreement on this" he paused to make sure all at the table had nodded agreement.

"Very simply. Shepard, myself and Anderson have all traveled back in time 200 years. Our minds have been somehow transplanted at this junction in the past, to prepare Humanity for a war of extermination that will take place in our future. One that will result in not just the death of the human race, but the death of every other race in the galaxy."

He paused to see how this was being received. Freeman looked almost bored, and was focused on prodding his finger into the icing topping of a fresh doughnut. Dutch had a blank look, Anna seemed confused and she pointed at the table.

"But if you know that Aliens exist, why the confusion over the Hunters? Why are we wasting time investigating? Don't you know everything about them already?"

Freeman interjected "Of COURSE they don't know anything about them, these Hunters are obviously a unknown player in this crazy game they are playing. Anyway, I see your alleged time-travel and raise you a major headfuck. First, 'Q says hi'. Yeah, I've no idea who he was referring to, but that was the message I was supposed to hand over to confirm I wasn't bugfuck crazy. SO, tell me, who knows anything about Black Mesa? Anyone? Anyone at all? Gee, total blank looks."

"Okay, I used to work at this place called Black Mesa. Totally like Cerberus, Area 51 and a Bond Villain HQ all wrapped into one. Totally crazy. They somehow got into extra-dimensional exploration, details are real hazy. Long story short, after a LOT of running around, pushing random buttons and shooting a bunch of aliens, government soldiers and ninjas, I ended up in a weird alien island world thing, and killed the floating head alien that was in charge of the alien invasion of Black Mesa. Which I totally didn't start by doing dangerous experiments on Anti-Mass crystals."

Assuming the dropped jaws of amazement were a positive sign, he carried on.

"Anyway, I get yanked out of my oncoming elevation to supreme ruler of Alien-kind as their replacement God-king by this freaking suit, I mean total bureaucrat. Apparently I had saved the world or something, but they needed me for another job.

He said to pass on the 'Q says hi' message when the dog heads do their big reveal. Next thing I know, I'm dumped in this slum of a world, and it's like, 20 years in the past. I've got no internet, no games consoles, no porn and no idea if I had just imagined the entire goddamn thing. And then when I get to my new job, I meet Shepard and it's like "BLAM!" all these new memories and ideas are loaded into my head. So yeah, this is all Shepard's fault."

"Black What?" asked Dutch.

"God-king?" asked Anna

"My fault? Wait, what?" muttered Shepard.

"Black Mesa? Never heard of it." Confirmed Jack "Area 51, yes, but nothing like this Black Mesa thing. Where was it based?"

Freeman grinned "New Mexico, and I know it doesn't exist. Spent some time researching it myself. I kinda figured I've been shunted to an alternate reality, which is kinda cool. Microsoft and Apple exist here, and I'm guessing the Net will be a huge thing here in ten years or so, so I'm pretty sure I can make some serious money. But then, that's what you guys have been doing for the last few years, right? Using future knowledge to get the jump on everyone?"

Jack nodded and tried to explain a little further "We intend Cerberus to drag a hopefully united humanity to the stars. We need major space industries within thirty or forty years, and prototype warships within fifty. We need FTL travel of some sort, a huge population base and a MASSIVE Navy and Army within the next one hundred years."

Anderson joined in "And we have to avoid using the most common technology from our future, as it is a trap used to dead-end development prior to extermination of new races."

Dutch frowned "that's the second time extermination has been used. What do you mean, an invasion? Another race is coming to kill everyone?"

Anderson stood "If you could hold the discussion off for a moment, I need to retrieve something from my office safe, which will hopefully help understand what we mean. Just one moment."

Anderson cancelled the security lock and departed, returning a few minutes later carrying a large cardboard tube of the type used for the transportation of blueprints or artwork. He re-locked the room and opened the tube.

"I had an artist create these for me. They aren't finished yet, he is under the impression they are potentially going to be part of an advertising campaign. He warned me he thought they were all far too disturbing for the public. See for yourself."

He extracted a dozen sheets of mostly finished colour artwork, some areas still only outlined in pencil, and spread them on the table.

Shepard swallowed as he looked at visions of human husks, electric blue lines running through their black skin. Long clawed Banshee's, hulking brutes holding a struggling human which looked about to be torn in half. Insectoid collectors with glowing eyes, and husked Rachni.

And several images of Reapers, including a horrific image of a Reaper drawn so it was face on, it's legs spread and it's glowing red 'eye' throbbing in preparation to extinguish the much smaller vessels surrounding it.

"All of these creatures were foot soldiers made by the Reapers, the race that is going to exterminate us. They made their foot soldiers out of the very races being exterminated. As the races were harvested and grew weaker, the Reapers forces get stronger. Until, after dozens, maybe hundreds of years, we are all gone."

"Reapers?" queried Anna. Shepard pointed at the black metal warships, his finger lingering over the image of the glowing red eye "Reapers. Genocidal AI spacecraft, anywhere from a few hundred meters to a couple of kilometers long. Come out of deep space after fifty thousand or so years, wipe everything out, and then retreat. And then do it again. And again. For millions and millions of years".

Freeman looked at the pictures, pulling one of the Reaper images towards him. He turned it this way and that, trying to see something. "Exactly how close is this to how it would look in real life?" he asked Anderson, handing the picture to him.

Anderson looked at it carefully and handed it over to Shepard, who sucked in a breath when he had the chance to get a good look at it.

"That...well, that's disturbingly accurate. Your artist has done a great job in capturing it Anderson, unfortunately".

Freeman held out his hand for the picture to be returned and looked at it again. Anna leaned over and looked at the upside down view. "You know, that reminds me of something I've seen" she said. "Cuttlefish or Squid?" asked Jack, but Anna shook her head "no, I mean something else, something, well. Wrong.".

Freeman smiled. "WRONG. That's it. Say, these things hide in Dark space right? Where the light of the Stars don't reach?"

"Maybe in the deepest oceans and chasms of other worlds and moons? And if you spend time near them, studying them, you start to hear voices? Go crazy? And you start to do their bidding, treat them as gods?"

The Cerberus heads looked at each other in shock "I have to say Dr Freeman, that is a disturbingly accurate picture you just described of their abilities and hiding locations, especially their brainwashing or indoctrination as we call it. How do you know this?" asked Jack with great concern in his voice.

Freeman grabbed another image of a Reaper and flipped it upside down, studying it and nodding. "I would say you need to get Anna and some people like Dutch together and in on this real quick, as all of your preparations might mean jackshit if they are already here"

"Because that ain't a Reaper I just described. Lovecraft called them Elder Gods, what we are looking at here isn't too far from what he described as Cthulhu. And he was writing his stories less than seventy years ago. So where did he get his inspiration?" 


	13. 13 - Tinfoil Hats

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me!

Authors Note - Wow, a mixed bag on the reviews, love to hear all of the feedback, both the good and the ugly. I hear the concerns about the multi-crossovers and the story running away. NOT going to happen, everything is there for a reason. Biggest problem is, the story arcs are plotting out to several hundred chapters. Ouch. I guess ME4 will be out before I am finished.

Chapter 13 - Tinfoil Hats.

Anna let out a nervous laugh "That is the most insane thing I have heard since I entered this room. There is no documented evidence or even suggestion of proof to support any of the Lovecraft stories. Seriously? Time travel, Alien super beings, Extinction Level events and now Elder Gods. Uh uh, not buying it. The crazy bus is just going to have to leave without me!" She rose from her seat and stormed across the room to the exit, grabbing the handle and rattling the heavy oak doors in frustration.

"Are you all just going to sit there or is someone going to OPEN this for me?!"

"Anna, please" began Dutch "come and sit back down, let's talk this over" walking around the table, he cautiously stretched out his hand and placed it on Anna's shoulder. Anna tensed and then relaxed, allowing herself to be steered back to her chair.

Jack, Shepard and Anderson watch the events unfold with a combination of amusement and confusion. "What exactly are we talking about here, Lovecraft and Elder Gods?" queried Anderson. "And this Cthulhu creature that Freeman mentioned, where does that fit?" asked Jack, face pinched and brow furrowed with concern.

Freeman gawped at them "What? You guys never heard of the Mythos, Shaggoths, Necronomicon, all that horror stuff?"

Shepard raised a finger and indicated the roof of the building. "Two hundred years ago for us remember?" he then pointed at himself "Special forces", at Anderson "Naval officer forced into becoming a politician" and finally at Jack "Mercenary turned industrialist turned Bond villain. I really don't think hundreds of years old horror stories were something that would have been high on our reading list, right?"

"Bond Villain?" mouthed Jack at Anderson, who nodded. "Face it Jack, all you needed was a white cat to pet whilst you ordered your minions around. You looked up Bond Villain in 200 years time on the Extranet, and it would come back with 'Bond Villain not found, did you mean - The Illusive Man?'".

"The point being" continued Shepard, ignoring the byplay "We don't know anything about what you are talking about. The parallels sound worrying, can you give us a high level summary?"

Freeman, Dutch and Anna looked at each other. Dutch held up his hands in surrender "I've heard of these stories, but I know next to nothing about them, it's up to you two". Anna glared at Freeman, who smiled back, stroking his beard. "FINE" growled Anna "I'll tell you what I remember, then Mr Paranoid over there can fill in what he knows."

She sat back and thought on how to start. "The main guy who started all this, H.P. Lovecraft, wrote a bunch of horror stories between fifty and sixty years ago. The basic premise is there are things in the world that are not of the world. And I don't just mean aliens, we are talking things from other dimensions, things that shouldn't exists here, that exist outside of time. Things just so plain WRONG, that seeing them will shatter your sanity like hitting a mirror with a sledgehammer."

"He mentions cults, humans and less than human followers who follow specific named creatures, Cthulhu is a prime example,  
Dagon is another. There are allegedly cities or sites of power scattered around the world, where these cultists try to open the way for their creature-gods to return. Oh, and these gods are in opposition to each other."

Anna paused and reviewed what little else she could remember, "Freeman mentioned the Necronomicon, apparently it was a cursed tome with rituals inside which will first send you insane, and then will show you how to open portals to bring in creatures...I think. Not sure about that one. Written by a mad Arab over a thousand years ago is how it is described."

Anna waved a hand at Freeman "Go on, tell them what else I missed, I know you are just itching to start spouting all that freaky shit".

Freeman turned to the Cerberus trio, and cleared his throat. In a deep and ominous tone, he recited "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming". He flashed a toothy grin "Sounds creepy right? What does it mean? This R'lyeh place is supposedly a submerged city somewhere in the South Pacific on Earth. People have actually looked for it, never found it. And it holds an imprisoned Elder God - Cthulhu".

He nodded at Anna. "Everything she said is pretty much my own understanding too. So the Mythos from where I came from matches the Mythos on this reality apparently. These Elder Gods, some people actually call them 'Eldritch Abominations', which I think is way cool, but also a mouthful. Anyway, these gods are basically unkillable. They are always wanting to come back to our reality, to feast on our souls or something, though most are 'sleeping' at the moment in their homes."

"Ummm...what else. The big ones are telepathic, and can contact people through dreams, send you nuts by them too. The different stories have contradictions. One claims that the main Elder Gods, the Old ones, are actually aliens and are at war with Cthulhu, which is also an alien, but from another reality or dimension or something."

"The weird thing is, when you read the stories, you can almost believe everything he wrote was true, which is why I think they gained so much renown. Something in the stories makes that primitive part of the mind shudder in fear, the same way when you encounter a snake or spider".

Jack had listened carefully and made a list as the two had completed their high level summary of the Mythos. "Well, I just need to check with Shepard here...I think this is the main points?"

"Ummm..okay, Lovecraft list. Mind control or influence. Cultists and belief in Old One's being gods. Two opposing ancient factions, one at least alien. Mind influencing artifacts, and physical images that have octopus or squid similarities, one apparently on Earth underwater. Other sleeping in the dark, waiting to be brought back to the world via portals."

"Okay, Reaper comparison. Indoctrination. Reapers and Leviathans are opposing factions. Artifacts that cause Indoctrination, everything from the Citadel itself to smaller portable items. The Reapers themselves warping your reality and perceptions. The majority of the Reapers in Dark Space, or the Leviathans hiding in ocean worlds. Alpha Relays, especially the Citadel, as portals to return to our 'reality'. Oh, and they look like huge squidy cuttlefish. Is Squidy actually a real word?".

Anderson sucked in his breath "That's a lot of coincidences. And I'm not sure about the Squidy. Okay, I think Mr Lovecraft just got himself jumped to the top of Ancient History and Myths investigation list, and we are going to need specially briefed teams that dig into that potential nightmare. The idea that there might be a crashed Reaper somewhere or even a Leviathan hiding on the planet is something I really, really don't want to consider. Ever."

Anna looked at Anderson "What? You can't be seriously giving that list the same weight as the things I've found? Hello! We have real life aliens running the planet, hunting us whenever the weather is nice and warm enough for them!"

Anderson held up a hand "Not the same weight Anna. Greater weight, but in a different area. It's going to take a specialised team to go hunting the Lovecraft links, because it there is ANYTHING concrete behind it, and they don't handle it right, we could be kicking off humanity's extermination two hundred years early."

"The rest of the more, ahhh, factually based investigations will be proceeding over the next few years, and you will obviously be heavily involved in those, rest assured."

Freeman stretched and cracked his back and then waved at the boxes still sitting in the middle of the table. "Anna did raise a good point, these Hunter things are still going to be active, no matter what we do, unless you can somehow hunt them down ourselves and start killing them. They CAN be killed, right?"

Dutch nodded. "It bleeds, so it can die. We just need to be able to identify where they are landing, then identify where they are - past their cloaking ability - and then have the firepower to knock them down".

Freeman squinted at Dutch. "Oh, I'm sorry, and all I need is the State lottery winning numbers to become a multi-millionaire. The guns can be done, no problem, but how do you suggest we sort out the other two minor issues? You know, finding the area they are in, and then finding the Hunter themselves?"

Dutch leaned across the table and smiled at Freeman. It wasn't a particularly nice smile. "You are the mouthy clever scientist who has been through much, much worse apparently. Invent something to fix the problem".

"What? That's not fair! I just got here! I mean, It's not like we can use these material samples to identify specific structural and biological signatures we can scan the world for, is it! We don't have the signatures! Or the scanners! We would also need satellites or something else in orbit to cover the world with scans!"

Shepard leaned across and smacked Freeman across the back of the head "You mean like the Cerberus station we are aiming to build? And we have the knowledge between us to at least start building the initial tools we need for scanners. And I'm pretty sure you can get a unique spectographic scan from the Blade Shard for starters, that could be useful. Anti-Mass, right?"

"Hey, ow! Oh, right, yeah, the Anti-Mass thing. Can't detect it, because it's invisible to everything we have. Hell, we only know it's there by identifying everything we CAN see, getting a total and then comparing it against the mass of the object. In this things case, about 12% is not there. And there are multiple strong traces, maybe 1% mass in total, of shit I can't identify, so definitely alien stuff, or at least nothing we have found on Earth. Yet."

Jack mulled over the term. "This Anti-Mass, it's a constant value that's missing? The numbers don't alter if you apply different external stimuli to the sample, such as cold, heat...electrical charge?"

Shepard could see instantly what Jack was suggesting, and interrupted what was bound to be even more sarcasm from Freeman. "With only one sample, we can't risk it with any sort of potentially destructive testing. If we have at least one more sample though, we can start significant physical analysis. You are wondering if the Anti-Mass is actually Eezo?"

Jack nodded. "Dr Freeman, in your original Black Mesa experience, you ran an experiment on a sample, did that sample by any chance contain a significant quantity of Anti-Mass? And did the experiment submit it to a significant electrical charge?"

Freeman ducked his head down "Welllll I'm not really sure on the Anti-Mass thing. I was running late, and had a headache, so had knocked back some codeine with a couple of shots of vodka for breakfast. When things got freaky, I wasn't totally convinced I wasn't having flashbacks. One guy did say it was the purest sample yet though, it was a big yellow crystal lump, if that helps. The resonance scan DEFINITELY kicked out a big charge though, we are talking visible arcing, almost like a huge Van de Graaff generator".

Anderson and Shepard nodded at each other. "Almost sounds like a ships eezo core. Maybe it tried to do the equivalent of an FTL with no destination, who knows what the effects would have been. Damned lucky to be alive Freeman, and not smeared over a couple of light years of space" said Anderson.

"It also means we need another sample for testing. If these things are using Eezo, we can track that. We'll have to build the scanners, but yeah, I know what wave pattern to look for with that" confirmed Shepard.

"I'm sorry, what is 'eezo'? Sounds like some sort of Mexican food? And now I want Tacos." muttered Freeman.

"It's an element that all of the galaxy's highest level tech runs on. Element Zero, E-zero, Eezo for short. I'll give you some details later" said Shepard. "It's also the reason we came back, to develop a humanity that is NOT dependent on that shit in the future, so we aren't limited by it as well" added Anderson.

Dutch picked it the cloth with the blood on it. "We have it's blood, can we maybe develop a Bio-weapon for these things? Just release something into the atmosphere so anything that turns up just, well, DIES?".

Anna looked horrified at the suggestion, Jack stabbed his pen at Dutch "I like how you think, but far too early for a move like that, and it would take months if not years to develop. We might actually want to develop it however, and keep it for insurance if nothing else. For now, we need to combat them on a more personal level, which is going to kill our teams. Literally."

Freeman raised a hand. "You know, there was a game I used to play called XCOM from the early 90's. Basically you were a secret global organisation, trying to covertly fight off an alien invasion. You have radar that spotted incoming alien ships, interceptors to shoot them down, fast transports to take a squad of heavily armed special troops to the wreckage or landing spot to try and bushwhack the little bastards and steal their gear so you could research their tech and upgrade your own forces. It was great. Brutally realistic as hell too for a game, assault teams normally took at least 50% casualties in a mission. And also sounds a bit like how we need to handle these Hunters, don't ya think?"

Dutch nodded agreement "It does sound a bit like what we are facing, definitely any teams that go after one of these things need to be trained, armed and be educate on what they are after. I guess casualty rates would reduce if the teams could get some experience, maybe sniper teams with laser pointers or something to mimic a Hunter in training?"

Anderson scratched his head and also nodded "Sounds crazy to be basing our strategy around a game concept, but the basics appear pretty solid. No way we can do any tracking of ships or shooting down at this point, but if we can identify heatwave hot spots, we can move teams into place and hope to track and catch a Hunter. And by catch, I mean blow one away".

Anna looked at Dutch exasperated and thumped him on the arm "Honestly, surrounded by idiots some times! These things look for a challenge right? A hunt, dangerous prey? So if you can identify heatwave areas in advance, move your squads there IN ADVANCE. That way if one turns up in the area, you won't have to hunt it".

Dutch looked unhappy at that "Because they have prey that is already there. You are talking about using our teams as BAIT."

Anna glared at him "And you were advocating developing and releasing a Fucking BIO-WEAPON".

As the two glared at each other, Freeman leaned towards Shepard and loudly whispered sing-song style "looks like someone is sleeping on the couch tonight...".

Anderson coughed into his hand and even Jack cracked a smile before he interrupted the still glaring couple "Dutch, we will discuss this later with Anderson, but it does appear our most viable strategy for increasing the likelihood of Hunter encounters. Particularly if we can target areas not quite as high visibility as Athens."

Anna turned her glare on Jack "And that does not mean you are going to be shipping Dutch around the world as bait for these alien bastards. He is staying we ME, are we clear on this?".

Jack smiled reassuringly "absolutely Anna, Dutch and yourself are our resident experts on the Hunters, we certainly won't be risking you in any of the hunts".

'certainly not until we have some additional experts trained up at the least' was his unspoken thought.

Anderson gathered together the artwork and reports from the table. "I feel like we have made some real progress, there are still a couple of items that we need to cover off. I recommend all teams from the Athens operation be isolated from the main Cerberus Security facility, and we use them as the back bone of these Hunter teams. We can identify additional personnel and form extra teams as we continue investigation into the recovered artifacts. Shepard, Freeman, we are going to need some technical support personal, probably our own R&D labs. We can't have alien items floating around the main R&D labs. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded agreement with that. "Great" moaned Jack "More budget meetings to look forward to. I'll have to move funding around, but we can start up an additional Cerberus branch." Jack turned and glared at Freeman, who was staring at him with big puppy eyes "We are absolutely NOT calling it XCOM".

Shepard raised his hand to get everyone's attention. "Freeman mentioned Majestic was aware of our earlier US Hunter investigation. And we know there has been some sort of a cover-up. I'm wondering if we want to investigate that avenue first. Maybe there already IS an XCOM out there, or at least a local US equivalent, if not a global variant?"

That garnered quite a few thoughtful expressions, particularly from Jack. "Shepard, if that does turn out to be the case, then the possibilities are nearly endless. Anderson, please make that a highest priority item for investigation. Freeman, would you be able to share with us how you came across that information, the fact that Majestic knew we were looking into something?"

Freeman took on a shifty expression "Well, there is a healthy conspiracy theory community out there, especially amongst the universities and colleges. There are a number of BBS addresses I am a member of, and I monitor them pretty closely. Some of the members are plain bat-shit crazy, even from my perspective."

"The strange thing is, it seems to be mostly these guys that have the inside scoop on some scary things. Like the Vela Incident? Israeli nuclear test. Reagan second term? Illuminati. Soviet nuclear test in Kazakhstan? Foothold scenario. Challenger accident? Sabotage."

Dutch and Anna looked at him in shock. "You can't be serious, that's a bullshit list" said Anna.

Anderson coughed "actually, no. From our time, we know that the Vela and Challenger claims are correct, and considering everything we have talked about, I really don't know what to say on the Foothold suggestion!" realising Anna looked confused he clarified "Foothold scenario is the term normally used to describe an initial invasion, in this context I guess we are talking alien...".

Freeman nodded "oh yeah, absolutely. And Cerberus? Illuminati front organisations, with a goal to insinuate themselves throughout the world via technological and medical advances. With it's own private army, and now links to the Military-Industrial Complex, it's only a matter of years before their mind control satellites are in orbit."

Everyone looked at Harper who shook his head "As far as I know, the Illuminati don't exist, and mind control satellites are an impossiblilty" he then looked decidedly uncomfortable as he admitted "the rest of that statement is disturbingly accurate though. Including the intention to have our own satellites in orbit in a few years".

Freeman nodded again "okay, so this is what I remember seeing about Carswell - Cerberus sniffing around the Carswell Predator incident, Majestic isn't going to like anyone else trying to play in their Sandbox. Or something like that. The Predator tag makes more sense now, I guess that's what others are calling the Hunters".

Anderson thought that over for a few seconds, and shook his head "we stick to using Hunter. If we switch to Predator, it'll make it easier for people to make a connection. But now that we know Predator is another term being used to indicate Hunters by at least one other alien aware party, we can monitor for that."

"The point is" continued Freeman "these guys seem to be right more often than not. And they think this Majestic group, I assume it's MJ12, are still active. I've made a few posts myself, using some of my future experiences to call a couple of events. I guess I could ping a couple of these BBS guys, see if they have any additional details on Majestic they are willing to share? It could spook them though, burn my credentials with them. Should I do it?"

"Absolutely. We need information. If you draw a zero, Anderson will have to start hitting his contacts. If we start making louder and louder noises, something should shake loose eventually. Even if it's a polite message to back off." confirmed Jack.

"Or maybe a less polite and incredibly deadly message" muttered Dutch "if we go that path, we will need to step up security everywhere and on everyone". Nods accompanied this statement.

Jack stood and smiled to everyone "Well, I don't know about Shepard and Anderson, but it's a relief to be able to share some of the truth of our situation with others. I would like to have semi-regular monthly meetings if possible, if only to cover progress updates. And if you are in country, I would be happy if you would join our movie nights, the additional perspectives would be useful. For now, I guess we all need to get back to work, thank you all for coming".

The next few months slipped past in a frantic whirlwind of organisation and additional meetings. The still unnamed 'XCOM' facilities were being constructed in Texas. Freeman had argued successfully for part of the facility to be underground, preferably in hardened facilities for both defence and weapon and R&D storage purposes. When Anderson pointed out the purpose of the facility meant there was a real risk of an attack targeting it in the future, or an experiment going boom, Jack grudgingly signed off on the additional funds.

Which meant that the new shiny base was currently a 25 metre deep pit, and still going down. As one construction worker commented, 'this is going to be one hell of an underground car park!'.

The surviving seven teams from the Athens operation were now all based at Shepard's Farm. It only took five minutes of paperwork for Anderson to make this the official name of the now 'Top Secret, Restricted Testing Site'. All teams have been cleared as both on-site security and weapon testing specialists. This had the added advantage of their being able to test out the latest weapons, including those being developed as prototypes by other companies, on the newly constructed firing lanes.

All seven teams had also been vetted by the CIA, FBI and Cerberus (again) and then introduced by Cerberus to the accumulated intelligence they had on the Hunters. Teams Alpha and Eight obviously had no issues with this reveal, as they had 'seen' one of these Hunters already.

The other teams still expressed some doubts, but were not particularly looking forward to a rematch based on the reports they had read. So far, in the last two encounters, it was three dead Cerberus teams, for a return of (it was assumed) merely light injuries on a solitary Hunter.

As Jones, the newly appointed site commander stated, "I ain't eager to put any of us in a body bag, just to prove a point. Just remember everything you are hearing and seeing here. With these things, there ain't no Overkill, just open fire and reloading!".

In September there was a world first, a two week long scientific conference being held at the Los Alamos facilities, which was discussing artificial life. Cerberus had found itself very pointedly NOT invited. Shepard merely shrugged at the news, and with a muttered "assholes" comment, returned to his Fission Reactor tinkering. He already had the damn thing up to 80KW, his concern was how stable the Helium-Xenon gas flow would be, once it was operating long term in a zero-G environment "Hmmmm...maybe if we just have multiple reactors setup to share the load, that way we have multiple redundancy as well...need to double check what lift capacity I'm allowed..."

Dutch and Anna were both spending copious amounts of time in London, a very substantial donation from Jack (read - major bribe) had opened pretty much every door in the archives of the British Museum. A few doors had remained shut, but as their escorts explained, these led to artifacts of major importance that were undergoing preservation and/or restoration work, and as such was climate controlled and highly secure. Dutch and Anna were also taking the opportunity to build a list of people who had effectively been black-listed by the Museum for any number of reasons.

"The theory" Anna stated after spending another productive morning eavesdropping on the latest gossip "is that anyone who is being black listed for funding, promotions, access or responsibility, where there is no clear case of theft or similar circumstances, probably isn't toeing the official party line. Our Ancient History and Myth investigation teams recruitment pool should start with those people."

Freeman in the meantime had been making very tentative forays into the increasingly murky waters of the tin-foil hat brigade. With permission from Jack and Shepard, he had released tantalising details of some of the Cerberus projects into the wild, the equivalent of dumping blood into a shark pool for some of the members of the community.

It had only taken a few days before the first Majestic reference to be made, again it seemed to be in the form of a not so oblique warning "Majestic is going to want to know where you got details on their tech you know", from an account called 'Deacon'.

Now with his credentials more firmly confirmed, Freeman was able to bait the hook a little more, making a comment that "Well, you don't think the M-I-C is going to leave all that good stuff lying around in A51 forever do you? Star Wars needs ray guns!"

It was a bit of a shock to find a response in early October from a user called Glory "Both A51 and VBerg now undergoing inventory and sec reviews, you kicked the hornet nest Mr3ond. We have spies on the board, careful what you post"

Freeman continued to insinuate himself more closely to certain names, ones that appeared to be more in the know than others, names that infrequently mentioned Majestic, M12, MJ12 or A51 in particular. It was only a week later, on a Monday night, when another post caught his eye, this one from TruePatriot.

"Heads up fellow believers. Gulf Oil is about to get expensive. Dig up your gold, stock up on supplies. Going to be a good time to buy stock next week. Peace, out."

Truepatriot had made infrequent posts, but as far as Freeman could tell, everything had been 100% accurate. He brought this to the attention of Shepard, who alerted Jack and Anderson. They agreed that tensions were high in the Gulf, thanks to primarily Iranian actions, but that had been the case for quite a while, thanks to the Iran-Iraq war.

No reason to think anything was going to get worse...but just in case, Jack made some calls to move funds again, making sure he had liquid capital on hand. If there was an opportunity coming up, he wanted to be able to take serious advantage of it. Cerberus had a number of marginally performing stocks, which he unloaded slowly onto the market. He noted that the market strength had dropped slightly on Wednesday, fortunately his sales were still well above what they had originally purchased at.

Keeping a close eye on both the market and CNN, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck lifting at the reports that Iranian silkworm missiles were being fired at tankers in the Gulf, at the same time as the market dropped yet again in strength 'How the hell did they know this was coming? Coincidence? Unlikely' he thought 'and why did they specify NEXT week for buying?'.

Severe storms hammered Europe that Friday, forcing the London exchange to be closed. Jack made yet more phone calls. Project funding was cut to a minimum for the month, funds poured back into the Cerberus Logistics account. Like a stalking panther, he gathered his strength, ready to pounce for the kill. After all, if nothing eventuated, the funds could be moved back next week.

By Friday evening, the DOW had dropped again, it was now more than 10% lower than it had been at the start of the week. Jack called for a movie night for that Saturday, requesting that Shepard also bring Freeman. Decisions needed to be made, that could catapult Cerberus forward decades, or conversely could end up costing them years and years of additional development time. And Freeman's origin from the fairly recent future might be just the edge they needed. 


	14. 14 - It's a Rich Man's World

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - Sorry, no action scenes this chapter. Next chapter though, things will get nasty. For real.

Edited to correct typo - we are now in 1988, not 1998 - thank you Flameraven for the catch.

Chapter 14 - It's a Rich Man's World.

Shepard walked into Anderson's home, trailed by a backpack wearing Freeman, who currently had more than a passing similarity to a lightning bolt victim, with apparently random nervous twitches as he twisted and turned trying to spot the watchers of the house that he was sure were in the area. He tugged his baseball cap lower over his face, yet again.

Jack and Anderson were already settled into the normal routine movie night routine. Large quantities of spirits on hand, mounds of junk food and, of course, small mountains of popcorn. Freeman eyed the half dozen bottles of whiskey and vodka.

"You are allowed to drink water if you want, right?" he queried. Anderson jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen "soft drinks, water and beers are through there. If you smoke, you go outside."

Freeman shook his head "nothing except the medicinal stuff, and after the Black Mesa fun and games, I'm keeping this frail flesh shell in good condition. The fact I could actual do a decent pull up back then probably saved my life more than once. And if my lung capacity had been any worse, well. Wouldn't be here, simple fact".

Shepard sat down and leaned over to the table, picking up the tapes. He looked at the sides. "What? Damn it Anderson, Dune, again? Oh yeah, now we are talking, Robocop. I love that one. Terminator? And what's this one? No label?

Freeman held out his hand, and Shepard handed them over. "Terminator was my pick, and woah, these are bootlegs! The big bad corporate boss men are encouraging piracy and crime! You crazy criminal masterminds!" he sniggered and put the other three tapes back on the table, holding onto Terminator.

Jack Harper leant back into the sofa and waved his glass of vodka dismissively "If the film companies released these things for private showing shortly after the big screen release, we wouldn't have too. They've got a monopoly at the moment, so I don't expect that to change for years. Bastards. So I just pay some people a bit extra to cut me copies of the latest films that fit my criteria. Capitalism at it's finest."

Anderson picked up the blank tape and tapped it thoughtfully "this better not be porn Jack. I was ready to gouge out my own eyes after that last tape you were given by 'accident'. I am almost certain that was the WRONG Animal Farm you were given."

Shepard chuckled "That wasn't so bad. Try waking up in the morning to Joker forgetting to mute his latest Hanar-Elcor Fornax special, and it being broadcast over the ship intercom - 'This one has very large engorged members ready to show you the path of the Enkindlers' is just wrong, and hearing "With Extreme Arousal - Ride me hard, you dirty big boy." is just ESPECIALLY wrong at 5am"

Jack coughed and shook his head "No, definitely not porn. But we will save it for last I think."

Freeman waved the tape he still held in his hand "Can we start with Terminator once every has settled in? Is it weird that my favourite character is the futuristic killing machine? Maybe it's because he sounds like Dutch. He's twice as cool in T2. Arnie, not Dutch."

As the heads of the others swiveled and stared at him, he gulped "uhhh...spoilers? Sorry. Yeah, there was a sequel, even better than the first one, and that's all I'm saying".

A couple of hours and much alcohol later, Shepard explained to Freeman the ideas they had previously come up with for possible ground force units, variations of terminator units or large mechs from the future. Freeman agreed on the basic strategy, and suggested he and Shepard start some basic design work in the main R&D labs. "Can't see anyone getting any strange ideas, you said it yourselves, the idea came from Terminator, and we already have security forces and military contracts. Just potentially branching out, right?"

When it came to Gojira though, he shook his head "One hundred metre giant robotic killing machines are not really possible, not unless you've got some crazy power sources and rule of cool building materials planned"

Shepard waved his hands "Maybe yes, maybe no. This thing isn't going to be on the board for another fifty years I would think. Back burner for now."

Anderson picked up Dune, and everyone groaned. "What? Oh come on, movies this year have been just total rubbish. Unless you REALLY wanted to watch Superman 4 or He-man? No? Didn't think so. Giant Sandworms it is then."

Freeman thought it was cool to try and feed the Guild Navigator at the start of the movie by throwing popcorn at the screen. "What? The guy looks hungry! I've also seen this one already, and have to admit, it's pretty amazing. Some differences from the book, but kept to the heart of the story. Also, sonic weapons with infinite ammo should be illegal unless I have one."

Halfway through the film, Jack started talking about the possibility of utilising 'folding space' as a future travel method. He explained the QEC's from the future and how he thought the same method could be duplicated on a larger scale.

Freeman threw more popcorn at Anderson who was complaining at the interruptions to the film. "These QEC's are a linked pair? So what makes you think you can bust through space like they do, it there isn't a linked point to travel to? If it's going to work, I can see it as a huge space port thing, that can jump to a different system, but not for free travel within systems and between random systems. Nope, can't see that working".

Shepard grunted agreement "I've been meaning to get around to some basic concept work on it, but I've been flat out with everything else". He leaned forward, and wrenched the bowl of popcorn away from Freeman who let out an indignant "Hey!".

Shepard gave him an evil grin. "Oh, and you'll be picking all that crap off the floor before you leave. Trust me, Anderson wields a mean rolled up newspaper. My film next."

Robocop was, as ever, awesome. At least in Shepard's eyes. Jack spent a good part of the film grinning at the OCP executives portrayal. Freeman confessed this was the first time he had seen the original version of it, and he actually liked it better than the remake. He remained tight lipped on the subject of sequels.

Anderson commented on corporate stupidity, the willingness to screw themselves totally, all over the potential of a small profit increase. He shot a pointed look at Jack, who started humming to himself and blatantly ignored Anderson.

Pizza was ordered and consumed in vast amounts. Freeman had mostly stuck with the beer, and a couple of shots of vodka. He guessed the others had polished off a bottle of spirits. Each. Not to mention a large pizza and extras, again each.

Shepard had revealed their secret, improved bodies with crazy resistances and metabolisms, thanks to Q. "Theoretically we can probably live for 500 - 1000 years. Obviously getting past 300 years age would mean we have succeeded in our goal of matching and hopefully destroying the Reapers. You should try running a couple of tests on yourself, and we can compare notes, see if you had the same attributes added?"

Once everyone had settled back down, Jack remained standing with the unknown tape held almost lovingly in his hands.

"As Dr Freeman is being brought fully into the group, but hasn't experienced what is to come as we have, I tried to find something that encapsulated what we experienced all those years ago. The buried, hidden menace, that no-one believed. The unstoppable terror, seeing your own kind twisted into the enemy. The minute to minute fear and uncertainty of indoctrination, not knowing who might be the enemy. The simple fact that the enemy within could even be yourself, and you wouldn't know it."

Jack frowned. "This little gem was recommended to me by Barbara, my PA. You know, the one that Shepard refers to as the Bulldog. It turns out, she has some interesting viewing tastes. Mr Freeman, you may have seen this, if so, watch it again, but with fresh eyes."

He inserted it into the player, and sat back down. Drinks were topped up, the lights turned off, and the tape started.

The opening scene of a saucer spacecraft breaching a planet's atmosphere was followed by the title of the film 'burning' onto the screen in icy blue - The Thing.

Freeman sucked in his breath and actually bounced a little in his seat "Oh god, I never saw this one! It's supposed to be a classic!"

What followed was a roller-coaster of horror and paranoia, with the later stages of the film being a race against time. If the Thing got back to civilisation, it was game over. If they couldn't eliminate it now, it would freeze again, ready for the next prey, having learnt how to convincingly mimic humans already. And then it would be game over.

No pressure. At all.

When the film ended, it showed the last survivors sitting in the burning remains of the station, knowing they were going to freeze to death - unless one or both of them was infected, in which case the world was fucked. As the credits rolled up, it found all four viewers sat in the darkened room, quietly thoughtful.

"So...what your saying, is when the Reapers hit, it was like that, but on a galactic scale? Not the armies of those husk things wiping everyone out, but the people helping them from the inside who didn't even know they were indoctrinated? The fear of not knowing where these things were, who might be helping them, and who was going to be attacked next? And average guys being confronted by warped monsters and getting eaten or mutated?"

"Ummm. Sort of. Not to mention the 50,000 year old killer monsters that nobody knew existed, just buried in Dark Space, waiting to come back and gobble us all up. And definitely the ball clenching terror you felt when you came up against some of the godawful fucking monsters the Reapers had created" Shepard confirmed.

He looked at Anderson "What? Just because I'm hardcore, doesn't mean I wasn't shitting myself half the time we came across another Banshee or Praetorian. Just didn't show it to the troops, you know how it goes."

The lights were put on, and the trusty notebook was pulled out, the group spent another hour discussing things from the far future, trying to give Freeman a high level view of how Humanity ended up developing, and the galaxy they grew into.

Freeman pretty much summed it up.

"Sounds like we threw away a lot of our own development and historical experience to bootstrap ourselves with this Eezo space magic. Did these Relays cut off our balls at the same time as they lobotomised us? Still, this Eezo stuff sounds useful. I can see it acting a bit like Anti-Mass. Which would be perfect for use in Gojira's case, for example."

Much nodding around the room. "Freeman, I was hoping you might know what is happening at the moment, or should I say in the near future. This TruePatriot has been able to predict a fairly major downturn on the stock market. Not so sure about the oil prices increasing. Do you remember any equivalent event from your timeline?" asked Jack.

Freeman stroked his beard thoughtfully "Well, there were a number of financial hiccups and crashes over my lifetime. I didn't really pay attention to anything from about this time, as I was only like, seven years old. If I had to guess though, this being Reagan's last term, yeah, I would say Black Monday. Not just the US, but a global hit on shares."

Jack began to smile "Excellent, a confirmation opportunity then, if I see early markets in the East taking hits, that means the US should also plummet. Now. Can you think of some big name companies, particularly in electronics and computers from your time, from just prior to the Mesa incident?"

"Oh yeah, that's easy, Microsoft obviously. Apple had started to do really well again too. Samsung and Fuji were big names. Toyota was big for the auto industry...uhhhh...Exxon for oil. Oh, and Fucking Walmart. They were HUGE, employed, like, nearly 2 million in the US. Used to joke that if you fucked up in Mesa, you could at least get a job at Walmart."

Shepard tore off the list and handed it to Jack, he eyed it with speculation.

"Microsoft? They went public in 86, would be worthwhile focusing on them...Apple is pretty expensive at the moment, but could worth snapping up if they drop, hasn't dropped when Jobs got booted out...Hmmmm"

Freeman nodded "I don't know how you guys are going to shake things up, but Apple, Microsoft, Toyota would all be good. If you don't have dirt cheap fission or fusion power lined up anytime soon, then Exxon as well. Everything runs on oil at the moment, right? Oil companies make money, simple as that. Oh, and Jobs? He was kinda the driver for the new Apple stuff, rejoined Apple in the 90's I think. Maybe you could grab him for your guys, the one's developing the new system? If you did that, Apple might not be such a good long term investment"

Jack nodded absently, his eyes running over the names on the list, obviously planning his Monday moves, and thinking about Apple and Jobs.

Freeman carefully reached into his backpack and extracted a white object. He quietly handed it to Shepard, and nodded at Jack. Shepard registered what he had been handed, and his face split open with an absolutely evil grin.

Freeman then reached into the bag again, and withdrew a Polaroid camera. He readied it, and nodded to Shepard, who swiftly placed the object on Jacks lap and withdrew.

A startled Jack dropped a hand down to his lap, and then looked up at the flash of the camera, as he realised he was now the proud owner of a large, fluffy, stuffed Persian cat. Freeman took the opportunity to snap off a second shot, as Shepard retrieved and waved the first print.

"Oh yes! Goddamn perfect!" Freeman held up a hand and Shepard high-fived him. "Jack, you will meet all of our future movie night demands, or this gets SHARED".

Jack realised he had been mindlessly stroking the...thing...on his lap. With a twitch of his legs, he dropped it onto the floor. 'Actually, that felt rather...right' he thought 'But no way in hell am I admitting that.'

He bowed his head in defeat. "Well planned and executed you two. Of course, whilst I am humble in defeat, my revenge would be just and swift. So no sharing the photos. Or else." Anderson walked across the room and plucked the two photos out of Shepard and Freeman's grasps. "I'll just be putting these in my office safe on Monday. For Security (and blackmail) purposes, obviously..."

Everyone stared at the dead cat on the floor. Freeman scooped it up and held it loosely under his arm. "Come Snowball, let us return to our Sanctuary. If you behave, I'll even let you share my pills tonight".

Monday morning found Jack Harper in his office, where he had been since before dawn. News coming through from the eastern markets was showing a significant drop, almost across the board. By the time it had hit Europe, it had only gotten worse.

There were live feeds on CNN from the NYSE, the tension was almost visible. Trading opened, slowly. Calmly. Nothing really seemed to be happening for a few seconds. Jack's eyes narrowed. Had he called it wrong? Had Freeman remembered incorrectly?

More traders could be seen rushing into the pit, and now he could feel it. The fear was mounting. Within seconds, Traders with fistfuls of sell orders were roaring out offers and no-one was taking them. "SELL" were the orders being handed down seemingly from everywhere "SELL! I WANT MY MONEY!" A few braver traders bought in as prices dropped, only to see their newly purchased stock plummet in value, and they too joined the lemming rush.

He spent the day mostly identifying key stocks. Microsoft had slipped slightly, Apple too. Exxon was taking a battering, possibly as a response to the earlier supertankers being hit by anti-ship missiles, and the recent US Navy response of blowing away the Iranian oil platforms the missiles had been launched from. Who knew how panic sellers worked these things out.

With less than an hour left on the Monday trading clock, he issued his orders. Hundreds of millions of dollars suddenly pumped into the market, some targeting smaller companies that he knew were healthy, just victims of panic selling. Most went to the big four he had finally decided on - Microsoft, Apple, Exxon and Toyota.

Even with the pit traders instructions to buy, the prices barely wobbled and slowed, but kept heading down. Fine by him, the buy trades were staggered over the next fifty minutes. In all, he was dumping nearly two BILLION dollars into the market. A significant amount of that he expected to make back in the next few weeks, once the markets had stabilised again, with a gradual sell off of some of the lesser stocks.

His eyes narrowed as he ran over the numbers again. "Horseshit" he muttered, realising he would be spending tomorrow with the legal department, organising various SEC filings to confirm he wasn't trying to move into position for a takeover of certain companies. Oh well, no rest for the wicked. 'At moments like this', he thought, 'I have to agree with the whole Bond villain image. A cat would be nice, especially as I don't smoke anymore'.

As the year rolled into 1988, the various Cerberus companies were moving ahead and making good progress in pretty much all areas.

Anderson reported that Cerberus Security was now up to over six thousand active personnel, not including back office and support staff. They had teams in every single Western European country, most South American and even a few African. South Africa was the largest contingent on that continent, as the effectiveness of the teams had earned a lot of respect, and requests for more and then more again to be deployed.

Anderson also reported he had been diverting the teams that were being identified as having potential issues (due to criminal history or personality quirks for example) to South Africa instead of risking them being deployed in local US areas, which in hindsight was proving in some ways to be a wise move. The slow build up of South African personal who were being head hunted and then "Colombianised" was approaching the target 600 strength for the Cartel operation, currently designated internally as CLEAN-SLATE.

The "We are NOT calling it bloody XCOM" facility was slowly starting to be developed, and was no longer just a 50 metre deep hole in the ground. Jack had seen the VERY basic layout suggestions, and knew he was looking at an expensive development over the next few years. He was loath to rush construction, as it was going to be an ideal place to bury some of the dirty money he expected to be acquiring soon.

Freeman was pushing for hidden hangers with hydraulic lifts to bring them to the surface, which seemed like a waste to Jack though. If anyone was going to attack, it would either be the government (in which case they were in deep shit), or the Hunters (in which case they were probably in even deeper shit).

Fancy ramps and hangers weren't going to help in either case, huge fortifications with massed heavy weapons would be better. Of course, saying to government building inspectors "and this is the armoured bunker where the mini-gun and grenade launcher batteries will be positioned" was never a good idea, even in jest, and definitely would make building plan approvals difficult to secure. Even in Texas.

Dutch and Anna were still floating around the British Museum, having made a number of positive contacts with current and previous employees. They had very bluntly informed candidates that a private company (and any of the candidates with two working brain cells could guess which one) was willing to fund several long term teams for investigation into a number of myths, both ancient and more recent. Teams would be split as either primarily back office support / research, or field work  
orientated. Security would not be an issue. There were no open positions if you didn't have an open mind.

As far as R&D was going, it was a mixed bag. The project team members who were still working on WOPR were pretty much ready to put there heads together in a line and see if a single bullet would finish them all off. Whilst some minor theoretical advances had been made, there just wasn't the processing power available to start testing out the theories, and without any proof of concept, there was no way they could start physical development.

Shepard agreed with their assessment, and encouraged them to continue - budgetary funding would NOT be cut. If they needed to start visiting external areas for fresh ideas / avenues of attack, or if they found useful hardware being produced by another company, to organise it with Security, just to be on the safe side.

Even with the limited success they were having, Shepard was convinced WOPR was still one of the leading teams in existence for AI development at this time. Best to be safe, especially with the government contracts and other projects they were aware of. He was sure any wandering researcher would be scooped up and pumped drive by one of the intelligence agencies if they got careless.

Astoundingly, the Cerberus Space station teams were actually AHEAD of schedule. Once Shepard had informed them he was looking at a four point power supply, each providing 25% of the required load under normal parameters, allowing for a 50% failure rate (though the remaining units would need to spike to 50% generation to cover the gap, and 100% in a absolute worst case), this had simplified the cabling required for each section, and had allowed for the reduced cabling to be more heavily armoured. As Shepard had stated "Space is a evil enough bitch as it is, let's not make it any easier to kill our fragile squishy guys than possible, right?".

Confirmation to Jack that they would be able to launch the first station components in June 1988 was met with a smug smile. "I have it on good authority" announced a jubilant Harper to Shepard "that if we keep to the deadline, we will be into space before NASA can start shuttles again."

"In fact, if we can manage June, July and August launches, we will be able to potentially assemble Cerberus-Freedom-1 before NASA can get back into space. If that happens, I'm giving everyone a 100% bonus. Don't tell them though, we can't afford anyone rushing and making mistakes in an effort to try and meet that target."

Dan (the Man) had finally completed the design for a more robust DBOD (Disco Ball Of Doom), unfortunately the cost per unit had more than doubled. On the upside, they have proven that by altering the angle of the now successfully tested replacement radar detection units (replacing the energy intensive LIDAR), and increasing the power throughput by over 90% - which the DBOD could now take - the effective range was now nearly 700m.

There were also several trees in the area that were favourite bird roosting spots, that would now no longer need to be removed. Hannah had interacted with them quite energetically, to the point that the sight of green beams exploding the trees into metre long splinters within seconds actually coaxed a 'whoops' out of Dan. Fortunately all security teams had been in the now purpose built observation / security bunkers, so injuries were avoided.

The problem now, explained Dan to Shepard, is we have a defence system that will kill ANYTHING moving into it's area. As it stands, getting an IFF return off radar and feeding it into the targeting system and working out that object is NOT supposed to be killed just wasn't practical for the maximum one or two second engagement window the system currently had available. It was a case of the systems processing power just wasn't ready for it.

Kill rates were now up to well over 90% on the old tennis ball test, even with an average 8 per second (albiet fairly slow moving) projectiles in the target area. Dan's next proposal was to say screw it with the IFF, and focus on testing Hannah's ability to kill more and bigger stuff.

Dan pointed to the Iran/Iraq war as an example. They weren't just using mortars and artillery, but land based artillery rockets and SRBM's, plus anti-shipping missles in the Gulf. "We need to build up the tests to those sort of levels - show Hannah can help against a Silkworm or SCUD, and everyone will be tripping over themselves to buy them". Shepard agreed, and was just glad he had been able to wheedle extra funding for the Hannah rebuild out of Jack.

Jack had been able to successfully replenish the Cerberus coffers by selling off chunks of stock that had bounced back barely a month after Black Monday. And had even managed to schedule a meeting with Steve Jobs.

Jack had presented the concept to Steve Jobs of a theoretical dual level system, one consumer, one business model. A hybrid of Apple and Windows functionality, fully loaded with top end hardware to maximise capabilities. To be made available to consumers for approx $1000, business models for between $1500 - $2000 per unit. With an initial design prototype available for testing in 1988.

Jobs had seemed interested. "If such a theoretical unit could be created in practice, if it could match those specs, at that price, in that time frame, I would admit to being impressed. Otherwise all you have is a proposal, and an unrealistic one at that. In my opinion."

Jack nodded, and asked with a straight face. "Want to make a bet? Prototype system available for review by the others company by December 1988? Stakes to be agreed upon at a later date?"

Jobs rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I've got a company that specialises in this shit. And we've been doing this as a team for two years. We are all leaders in our fields, and quite frankly, they have me. What makes you so confident?"

Jack smiled faintly. "I have John Shepard" he calmly stated, then stood up and held out his hand. Jobs stood, icy eyes locked onto and held Jack's for a few seconds. With a wry small he leaned forward and clasped the offered hand. "Deal."


	15. 15 - Outside, Looking In, Part 1

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - This chapter contains scenes where the language used would potentially be other than English. To spare everyone the pain, I'll keep everything in English.

A big thanks to deitarionSSokolow for his research links and further discussions, they were a major time saver, allowing me to focus on the next chapter much quicker than I feared. And Dur'id the Druid? I know it can get dark and confusing when you are wandering around inside my head, the exit is to your left...

Chapter 15 - Outside, Looking In, Part 1.

October 1987, Indungo, Angola. PLAN Northern Command Base.

Peter removed the rag from his head and used it to wipe the layer of sweat from his face, before tying it back onto his head and picking up his AK-47 again. "Man, it's HOT today. Why the hell are we sitting out here in the trees anyway?"

Sam, his companion in misery at their current guard position, glanced at him. "Because the captain said, go watch from the edge of the wood, so we watch from the edge of the wood."

Peter squinted out into the dust filled scrub plain that stretched out ahead of them. "Why do we always get the shit jobs? And what are supposed to watch for? Ain't nothin out here but us sorry asses!"

Sam growled "We are out here because YOU can't keep flapping those lips of yours at the Captain. And we are supposed to keep watch for those Boer pricks. Not that it's not them that worry me."

Peter stopped his squinting and turned to face Sam. "What you saying? That Recce's crawling around out there, sneaking up to slit your throat don't scare you any?"

Sam took the time to hawk up a dust laden mouth of spit, which he spat onto the floor. "Fucking Recee's can suck my cock. They are bad, but you weren't there at the Cuito".

Peter gave up staring out into the noon sun, and leaned back against the one of the dense trees they were sheltering amongst. "Lot of fighting happened down at the Cuito. Recee's sneaking about on the river there too I heard. Heard some pretty bad shit went down, it true?"

Sam's face took on a careful blank look "Maybe. Could tell you, but you probably just gonna say I'm lying, think I'm talking shit"

Peter re-assured him "Nah, come on. Everything you told me so far, you've been straight, You ain't one to brag or make shit it. We ain't going nowhere until the captain sends some other sorry fuckers over, so come on, share with me?"

Sam fought an internal battle for a few seconds, then grunted a single word, "That new group with the Boers. Ghosts."

Peter's mouth hung open. "Ghosts? Fuck, really? You saw one?" Sam nodded "We were chasing Recee's down the river, we were using helicopters to leapfrog ahead of those fucking pricks. They kept on squirming and wriggling, we shot at them, they shoot some at us, always moving, running back to Boerland. Last time the group I was with dropped down, I twisted my ankle. Others went ahead to get into position, I was limping up behind them."

Sam took on a distant look, and he stared back out onto the empty plain.

"I didn't hear nothing at first, but I smelt it. Blood on the air. I found the rest of my team laid out in their ambush spots, every single one with their throats laid open, ear to ear. I hid, and saw the recee's arrive - and these black armoured soldiers just seemed to appear out of the bushes. Couldn't hear much, one of the recee's said something like 'thank fuck for the sirbus ghosts', and then they left, following the river. The ghosts didn't go with them, they just vanished again. I sat and waited for an hour, then went to the next chopper point".

He looked back at Peter, who just stared at him with a glassy look. Just as Sam realised there was blood spreading on the ground around Peter, he felt an excruciating agony explode in his lower back, then nothing.

The Cerberus operative pulled his knife out from Sam's back, and used it to open up his throat from ear to ear, then wiped his blade on the shirt of his latest victim as his partner did the same to Peter, and then let Sam's body fall to the ground.

He cautiously stepped further into the trees, and he and his partner were joined by two other pairs.  
"Nice to know the nig-nogs are learning to be more scared of us than the Recee's or Parabats." the leader muttered to himself. "Okay, we've got one more look-out crew to silence before the planes get here, about a mile east, standard triangle formation, lets move".

It took the Cerberus strike team another thirty minutes to carefully work their way to the final lookout point, and thirty seconds for the two lookouts to be killed, a different pair of troopers this time making the kills and performing the same throat mutilations on each corpse.

"Sarge, why are we cutting up the bodies after we kill 'em? We didn't do that to the Argies, why these guys?"

The leader of the team kicked one of the two corpses, which already had a swarm of flies dancing around the slash in it's throat. "Psych warfare me laddio. The S-A lads have been fighting this war for 20 years. Our boys have come in and racked up a shit load of kills in the last, what, six months? We've not lost a body yet. They rarely even see us. We are building a legend of fear, pretty soon just the rumour we are in the area will scare these shits so much, they'll be whiter than you or me".

He flipped open his watch "Okay, S-A Parabats are on the way I guess, if they are actually on schedule for a change, they will be dropping in 15 minutes. We've done our job, all teams should be done by now. We've gouged out the PLAN eyes for this base, time for the Boers to do some work. Hope they make a good killing".

November 1987 - Bogotá, Colombia.

José Gonzalo Rodríguez Gacha felt that today was a good day, and was a happy man for it. His convoy was returning home, after attending a meeting where he got confirmation that yes, the latest drug factory complex (the largest since Tranquilandia was destroyed) was only a few weeks away from completion and activation.

He had personally seen to it that MAS had received the funding necessary to place enough defences and support there to fight of a government regiment. Which was good, as the new complex was in FARC land. The assassination of Jaime Pardo, FARC's presidential candidate should convey across the message clearly enough.

Don't fuck with El Mexicano.

His convoy of five black 4x4's, his personal vehicle in the middle, sped down the highway, blatantly breaking the speed limits. He didn't agree with the Vásquez brothers, or Pablo. They might think the Cerberus Security forces could walk on water, he would stick with the MAS men he knew and trusted.

Especially as these were men who knew if anything happened to him, their families would be suffering for it.

He had already put feelers out, with the aim of recruiting British and Israeli mercenaries to train up his own personal hit squads. With these hit squads under his control, he could then start eliminating those government and business obstacles he was encountering.

His happy thoughts were rudely interrupted when the lead car in the convoy suddenly erupted into a fireball, as some sort of rocket smashed into it head on. The second lead car reacted quickly enough, swinging out wide around the expanding wreckage, side swiping a family sedan into oncoming traffic in the process.

His own car was about to follow the same path, when a second rocket - and this time he actually saw the vapour trail - again smashed head first into one of his guards, this time the second vehicle, turning both it and the civilian traffic around it into a twisted metal funeral pyre.

His driver slammed the brakes and twisted his wheel, skidding sideways towards the burning wreckage "Back, back, back the way we came!"" yelled Rodríguez, looking out the side at the two security vehicles that were following him.

He watched in horror as more rockets reached out from BEHIND those same two vehicles, and in a visual display worthy of the best Hollywood special effects, impacted the 4x4's in the rear, blowing them forward and flipping them end for end, civilian vehicles were again forced screeching to a halt or even off the edge of the highway, leaving Rodríguez and his vehicle effectively trapped in a square of burning and crashed vehicles.

Two of his guards from the 4x4's behind him had survived against all odds, and clambered, both bleeding and scorched, out of the remains of their vehicles. Only to be sent dancing like puppets on invisible strings, as dozens of bullets smashed into them.

Rodríguez could hear rounds slamming into the sides and wheels of his own vehicle. He reached down under the seat and pulled out a .357 Desert Eagle. Useless if they just fired another rocket, but maybe he would get to shoot someone.

The driver opened the door and moved to dart outside, and then fell back inside with the top half of his head missing.

Captain Anton 'Benito' Mussolini watched all of this from the roof of his mobile command post (yet another 4x4) with powerful binoculars.

'Bet you wished you had agreed to Cerberus Security bodyguards NOW, you son of a bitch' he thought, smiling. "Oh, good shot" he commented as the driver of Rodríguez's vehicle was executed by one of his snipers. A quick scan of the area showed that everyone looked to be dead except for Rodríguez.

"Phase 2, here comes the cavalry" he called down to his radio operator, who quickly passed it through to the Cerberus squads. Benito picked up his cell phone from the roof and dialed a number.

Rodríguez sat crouched on the back seat of the 4x4. The armour plating of the glass and body of the car was starting to weaken under the gunfire. 'What a fucking way to end the day' he thought despondently 'and my life'. The cell phone ringing away in his ears wasn't helping either.

What?

Rodríguez grabbed for the phone, and answered it "This is a really fucking bad time! WHO IS THIS?".

The crackling on the line made it difficult to make out, but it sounded like that annoying Italian Cerberus commander "Mussolini here Sir, please keep your head down Sir, we have squads about to hit their missile units. Are you armed Sir?"

Rodríguez glared at the phone in frustration "Of course I'm fucking armed you idiot!". "Oh, that is good news Sir" came the rejoinder, "please shoot anyone who comes near you until I call back, I will let you know when one of our units is approaching you. I think I can tell which vehicle is yours, the only one not on fire I would assume...I will call back soon Sir".

Rodríguez could hear an immense amount of gunfire, north and south of his position, but nothing seemed to be hitting his car. The gunfire rolled on, and on. After thirty or forty seconds, it died off. Maybe he could crack the door open and make a break for it?

Benito made sure the phone was off and looked at his RTO. "Blanks being used for the gunfire and bodies in place sir. We had to shoot a couple of civvies for real that got a good look at the ambush sites and our squads unfortunately, squad leaders report everything else is golden."

Bentio looked at his watch. Less than three minutes since the ambush had started, good, good. "Phase three. White knight" he ordered. The RTO ducked his head and issued the commands.

Benito picked up the phone again and prepared to give Rodríguez the good news. He sighed in frustration. 'Now would be a perfect time to kill him' Benito thought, 'but no, High Command wants us to keep him alive. Fuck. Oh well, if he refuses to use Cerberus Security now, I get to shoot him next time...orders are orders..and THAT one I will carry out with glee'. With a grimace, he made the call that would make Rodríguez, once again, a happy man.

December 1987 - Cuernavaca Ranch, Colombia.

It was a rare gathering, all of the heads of the Medellín Cartel under one roof. Not unknown, but this meeting was unique.

For the very first time, every member of the security detail guarding the area, was also a member of Cerberus Security.

Rodríguez was once again praising his rescuers who had pulled him out from the FARC ambush. Apparently they (FARC) had taken his killing of Pardo even more seriously than he expected.

At the insistence of Rodríguez, Anton (Benito) was now standing in the room with, and now face to face with all of the Cartel heads. He was pretty sure the DEA or Colombian government would make him an instant millionaire if he just pulled out his weapon and serviced the five tangos in front of him, right now.

'Watch this one, regular snake, maybe the smartest of the bunch' he thought, as Pablo Escobar queried him.

"You say you had heard information that suggested an attack, and took it on yourself to shadow the convoy just in case, rather than inform HIS security? Why? Why not at least reveal you were performing as an additional escort?"

Benito paused to gather his thoughts on how best to phrase this.

"With all due respect to the deceased, IF an ambush took place, I did not have high confidence they would be able to handle it themselves. Historically, I am sad to say, we at Cerberus Security have felt El Mexicano did not have faith in our skills, and would have possibly reacted negatively to us if we had informed his security of our suspicions. I was saddened to see the ambush not only took place, but was nearly 100% successful before we could locate the enemy, Obviously, I am ecstatic that the principal was safely secured."

The Cartel heads looked to each other, Rodríguez nodded in acknowledgement of the truth of the Cerberus evaluation.

"Well, El Mexicano" said Pablo wryly "I think you will find that we" he indicated the other heads "have all been immensely satisfied with Cerberus ourselves, and I think you now understand why we consider them of such high quality and reliability."

"Since they took over their new security responsibilities within the organisation" Pablo continued "losses due to seized or destroyed merchandise has dropped 42%. In the last year, they have saved us so much money, they have paid for themselves twice over." The Vázquez brothers rumbled a happy agreement, and raised glasses in a silent salute to Benito.

Rodríguez waved a hand "Free money is always good, but I would like 'Benito' here", the other Cartel heads chuckled at the use of his nickname "to understand what he is really here for". Rodríguez stood and walked to Benito and stretched out a hand, which Benito clasped strongly.

Rodríguez spoke passionately to Benito, and the room as a whole "You and your men gave me back my life, when I thought it already gone. Because of you, I get to watch my son grow strong. I wish you to pass a message to your highest commander, Anderson. We want more men. Lots more men, an army of men. Of the same calibre as we already have, better if he has any. And guns. Fucking guns, and tanks. Missiles. Planes. Whatever he needs for a war. Whatever price he wants, by early next year".

"FARC want to fuck with me? They should KNOW by now - you don't fuck with El Mexicano!".

January 1988 - Cerberus R&D Complex, Texas, USA

"Oh come on" moaned Jenkins, hand slapping the side of the scanner which had returned a red light and buzz for the second time "stupid Japanese piece of shit!". Wiping his hand on his lab-coat to remove as much dirt as he could, he gingerly laid it flat on the scanner surface again, and waited for the red laser light to finish 'eyeballing' it.

The blat of the buzzer sounded for the third time, and this time it was accompanied by a whirling red light above the door, which was the signal for all hell to break loose. The 'Whoop-Whoop' of a siren could be heard.

A mechanical voice sounded from a grill next to the scanner "Security alert. stand facing the nearest wall with your hands in the air. Do not move."

Then the part of the new security setup that always made Jenkins shit himself. A wall panel slid back and targeting laser beams played across him, and with a whine of hydraulic motors, a large gun barrel on a tripod rotated to aim at him. A robotic sounding voice he knew all too well then growled at him.

"You have 15 seconds to comply".

Jenkins whimpered. Goddamned ED-209. Why they hell did he used to think that scene in the office when it malfunctioned was funny?

In the Cerberus R&D central security office, Freeman, Shepard and several security staff were watching Jenkins on the security monitors with great amusement.

"To be honest Sir, since you ordered the additional background checks and put the new security measures in place, we removed half a dozen janitorial staff from our employment, and have seen a drop in missing equipment reports by over 60%."

"Thanks to the huge number of extra security teams we have been assigned, we are able to respond to incidents in a third of the time it previously took, and have tripled the number of internal and external patrols also."

"We also can now log each person who enters and leaves the complex with the Fingerprint scanners, and all high security areas contain both hand and additionally, retinal scanners."

He paused and looked at Jenkins on the screen, who was on his knees with hands folded behind his head, half a dozen Cerberus Security guards aiming weapons at him. One guard approached Jenkins, took his security pass and checked the image against the face of the person wearing it. He nodded and held a thumbs up to the camera, and the central office obligingly shut off the alarm, the auto-gun shutting down and the panel sliding shut.

"Whelp, the ED-209 audio track certainly seems to add a little extra edge of intimidation to the auto-gun, glad I thought of including it" commented Freeman, "has Jenkins realised yet you keep using him for the Security drills? Or that the auto-gun isn't actually loaded yet?".

The Security officer watched Jenkins try again with the hand scanner, and this time didn't rest his thumb on the override button. "Nah...nice guy, but totally focused on his research. If it doesn't come up on his research radar, he ignores it. Always polite, no matter how many times he gets visits from Security. Thinks Shepard is God. You could probably order him to wear chain-mail underwear and a Darth Vader mask for a week, no reason, and he would.

Freeman flashed a puppy dog look at Shepard who was still staring at Jenkins on the next monitor. "Not happening" muttered Shepard without looking at Freeman "We mess with his head plenty enough as it is. We should probably start cutting the kid some slack".

January 1988 - Lamb and Flag Public House, London, England

"Christ, I'm freezing my tits off here" gasped Anna, as she rushed into the pub, door swinging shut behind her. Dutch caught it just before it smacked him in the face, scowling at the local who was near the door, obviously about to complain about the cold air being let in.

Dutch paused just inside the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darker room. Stepping up to the bar between two gentlemen who were already being served, he caught the eye of a young lady behind the bar, who flashed him a bright smile. "Can I get you anything sir?" she asked, perhaps a little more saucily than he expected.

He ran an appraising eye over her charms, which her uniform was struggling to keep contained on the inside, and grunted as Anna buried an elbow into his side.

"Two pints of lager please, and we are expecting to meet a Mr Jackman here, has he arrived do you know...?" asked Dutch, mentally smiling at the disappointment that flashed over the young woman's face when she noticed Anna's possessive treatment. "Certainly, that will be two pounds fifty, and a Mr Jackman is sitting in the corner by the window." She waved at the gentleman she meant, and he waved back.

Paying for the drinks and thanking the young lady, Anna and Dutch each grabbed a glass and made their way over to the indicated table. Fortunately it wasn't yet noon, so the lunch time horde had yet to descend.

The fairly elegant looking older gentleman rose from his seat, being careful not to swipe the table contents with his trench-coat, and held out his hand in greeting. "Jackman, Charles Jackman, delighted to meet you both." He shook hands with Dutch, who kept the clasp politely firm, and lowered his face to kiss the back of Anna's hand politely when he caught it, then immediately released it. "Please sit, sit, my table is your table".

Anna and Dutch sat and Anna smiled at him. "I must say we were surprised that someone actually approached US about joining our new team, and not the other way around!" started Anna, cheeks a little flushed from the unexpectedly old fashioned (and nice!) greeting.

Charles sat back down himself and smiled at both of them "Oh, you two have made quite a stir in the local community, especially in my areas of history and archeology! I have to say, there are a number of officials in museums and universities who are actually quite livid with the pair of you! Fancy going to all that trouble to black-list some young upstart who disagrees with your accepted theorem, and then having a pair of Americans pop over the pond to start hiring them! And for more than most people on our fields could reasonably expect to make! To go gallivanting around the world, chasing old legends and myths!".

Charles picked up his pint and took a long sip, smacking his lips and grinned broadly at Anna, revealing perfect white teeth "and I personally am just LOVING watching the cats amongst the pigeons. I expect you saw that Prince chap earlier. Don't let his looks put you off, there is a mind like a razor hiding under that greasy hair of his. If he hadn't had that most UNFORTUNATE falling out with Marie over Ancient Egyptian myths, he would probably be eyes deep in some sandy tomb."

He cocked his head at the stony faced Dutch. "Ummmmm? Nothing to say dear boy? I must say, all the girls have been ITCHING to find out what is under that dreadful fitting suit you insist on wearing. The one with the nasty bulges under your arms. And those TROUSERS. Whomever it was that allowed you to buy something that left those funny creases on your inner calves should suffer defenestration as punishment." Dutch twitched when Charles slipped him a wink.

"...right..." said Anna, mental train completely derailed at this last. 'WHICH GIRLS?' she wanted to demand from him, possibly with one of Dutch's pistols shoved up Charles's nostril to make a point.

Instead she settled for a much more sedate "Oh, we didn't think we had that many woman on the list of people we wanted to interview?"

Charles ran a quick eye over the crowd. "Oh it's not just the one's on your list my dear, it's ALL of them. Quickly, look at the bar".

Anna snapped her head to look at the bar, to catch a trio of barmaids clustered together, all whispering and staring at Dutch. One jerked as she noticed Anna sending death-ray glares in their direction and the gaggle quickly disintegrated to attend different areas of the bar.

Anna's head rotated like a battleship turret slowly towards Dutch, who was trying to look as innocent as possible.

"You KNEW about this?" she hissed. Dutch nodded. "Everywhere we go?" Dutch nodded "ALL of them?" Dutch hesitated.

"Well, not if they are numb from the waist down, or bat for the other team my dear, but otherwise yes" smirked Charles "Oh, I'm sorry there Dutch, I am afraid I suffer from a chronic condition, what was it called again? Oh yes, I'm a shit stirrer".

Anna wasn't sure whether to punch Dutch repeatedly or just sit here until her head exploded. How could she have been so oblivious to all of these foreign sluts making cow eyes at her man?

Cue needle screeching noise as it drags along and jumps off the record.

'Wait - my what?'

Dutch picked up his pint swallowed half of it with one very long gulp. "Now that you have broken Anna, and have pointed out how terrible my clothes fit, in a very unusually particular manner, why don't you share your proposal Mr Jackman".

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Before you do something unspeakably painful and violent to me? Certainly. I've been on expeditions to six continents, 35 countries over 25 years. I speak five languages fluently, can get by in another eight, and can also read or decipher 3 ancient languages. Dab hand with a shotty or a revolver, and not too shoddy with a knife or machete."

Charles paused, took another sip of his pint, and continued.

"I can probably drink anyone under the table, and eat or drink just about anything, very useful in some of the bush cultures. I'm piss bored and fed up of the bloody cold and rain in this country, which I now have to suffer through for most of each year. I"m offering myself as your project lead. And you, Anna and your boss - not Anderson, your real boss, Jack Harper - would be absolute fools not to take me."

February 1988 - USSR Embassy, Washington DC.

Soviet KGB officer Ivan Ivanovich, one of several active US 'rezident' staff looked over his latest report for Moscow, to be added to the diplomatic pouch the next morning.

'Fucking Cerberus' he thought 'if I get assigned back home, it's going to be either for re-assignment to count trees, or a short trip to Lubyanka basement, all thanks to goat-fucking Cerberus'.

He had thrown in as many positive slants as he could, and positioned himself in the best light possible, but what it all came down to was:

Bugging / and or infiltration of Cerberus Logistics - FAILED. Any device that actually made it into the buildings was posted back to the Kremlin. First Class.

Bugging / and or infiltration of Cerberus Security - FAILED. Any device that actually made it into the buildings was destroyed within minutes. He knew this, because they had been sent time-stamped videos of their agent planting the device, and it subsequent retrieval and destruction.

Bugging / and or infiltration of Cerberus R&D - Partial success. Agent initially gained access as a Janitor, only to be dismissed one week later. He had been able to gain a list of areas being worked on, and had also overheard Cerberus were going to launch something into space later this year.

More annoyingly, any bugging device they actually got onto the premises disappeared, and was then dismantled and mailed back to embassy, with a list of faults and improvement suggestions for each device, and a rating score out of 10 for how well they did.

Bugging / and or infiltration of Anderson's home - Success. Only problem was, they had bugged it now 17 times. Not one single device worked after being planted. Amusingly enough, various American agencies were also finding the same issue.

Bugging / and or infiltration of Harper's home - Success. Did he ever go there for anything other than to sleep?

Bugging / and or infiltration of Shepard's home - Success. Even more worthless than Harper. He seemed to spend most of the week sleeping at the office.

Bugging / and or infiltration of Dr Freeman's quarters - Partial Success. They had one working bug. Which Freeman seemed to know about, as he liked to spend significant amounts of time telling it dirty jokes and insulting whomever was listening at the other end. In Russian.

Sexual entrapment. Very partial success. Shepard had ignored all attempts. Anderson was somehow miraculously never NEAR any attempts. Harper didn't seem to know woman EXISTED. All of the R&D staff were extremely wary of ANY approach from a member of the opposite sex, possibly corporate espionage training. And Freeman, well.

Freeman took them back to his place, and spend hours having sweaty, noisy animalistic sex under the bug. And at the end of each session, would say, again in Russian "I am a sex god. I broke your latest girl, send me a fresh one, maybe younger and kinkier?".

The really, REALLY annoying thing was, all the girls left with big fucking grins, walking bow-legged. His own little birdy had come across several of the girls comparing notes. Apparently she stayed with them to accumulate information to create a full report. That took two hours, and lots of giggling.

Bribes didn't work, they just made counter-bribes. Threats didn't work. He still shuddered at the letter he had received from Anderson detailing exactly what would happen to him and his staff if a Soviet operation caused the harm of a Cerberus employee whilst on American soil.

The only thing left, was kidnapping and interrogation. And that request was at the bottom of the form. If approved, it would open the gates to hell, break the unwritten rule, putting every Soviet agent at  
risk of the same treatment being applied to them. And that was just by the US agencies. Anderson would start a war.

IF it was approved however, he still needed an appropriate target. Not Freeman though. He really didn't want to know what was inside THAT man's head.


	16. 16 - Outside, Looking In - Part 2

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - Finally got around to finishing off the latest update, it fought me tooth and claw. Didn't help that I had to spend another two days performing research to restock my twelve members. My original lineup was all dead by 1988 - Whoops. Anyway, a very much more talky and much less amusing part 2 for you. Next chapter, we will be back to Cerberus.

Chapter 16 - Outside, Looking In, Part 2.

February 1988, Pentagon, Arlington, Virginia.

Admiral William J. Crowe (Jr), current Chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, looked across a room filled with his peers.

"Alright, let's make a start. I've got a DOD meeting in less than thirty minutes, so I am afraid we are going to have to wrap this one up quicker than normal. Actions from previous meeting minutes is clear - for a change - so let's jump straight into today's main points".

JCOS Chairman Crowe checked his meeting agenda and indicated Admiral Trost 'Chair recognises CNO (Chief of Naval Operations) Trost'.

Admiral Trost nodded in thanks. "Standard deployment's for surface and submarine units of the USN, Soviets seem to be pretty much on their usual rotation. Two points I need to address - First point is that Operations Prime Chance and Earnest Will are still under way in the Persian Gulf, current assets that are deployed are enough to cover all taskings, we may however need to move additional units into the area, that is if the Soviets show any indications they are moving in that direction".

Trost took a drink of water to refresh his mouth "Which leads me to the second point. We recently had two incidents in the Black Sea, where Soviet warships claimed we were in violation of their waters, whilst we were exercising our right of innocent passage. Minor damage to one vessel, but it's also the first direct hostile interaction of Soviet versus US units we have seen since Gorbachev came into power."

Thoughtful looks dominated the table. Admiral Trost continued "It might not be anything, but we are actually in an election year. We have eight, nine months to go, and then there is going to be a new president. These could be early steps to put pressure on a new president, or indications of something larger. Or maybe nothing at all".

An Army general raised his hand and JCOS Chairman Crowe nodded to him "please go ahead Carl, what's the Army got for us?"

Carl Vuono rubbed his hands together as he started talking "Feel like I need to be stood up and putting this on a board, but you have made it clear we are short on time today. Soviets have previously stated, starting last year, that they are pulling out from Afghanistan. We have seen movements to confirm this, but we have also seen another indicator that is of some concern."

"The Soviets recently finished an operation to break the siege on Khost, a city which has been cut-off by rebels for, well. For the last six years. Big operation, equivalent of four divisions from the Soviets, and between three and six from the Afghans. Most of our analysts say they are doing this to put their Afghan puppets in the best position they can before the Soviets finish withdrawing from the country."

Heads nodded around the table in agreement, Chairman Crowe asked "Well, what do the other analysts say?".

General Vuono frowned "They agree, but they also pointed out that the operation was using Soviet divisions that only recently got their latest class of conscripts, which means they were pretty green. They think someone over there took the opportunity to blood some fresh recruits. Which also means the more experienced units that we would have expected to be used for this operation, have been reassigned elsewhere."

"I might have something to add there" said Vice Chair Robert Herres. "Until a couple of weeks ago, I was head of Space Command, and as such, was deeply aware of what was happening in SDI. You might not be aware of this, but the information is at everyone's current clearance level, and I was going to request we schedule a separate meeting once I had a little more information."

"First, Cerberus is deploying a space platform this year, a MANNED platform, which we are going to use as a monitoring station. Once they have a working scaled up Graser unit, it is going to be added to the manned platform, and it is then going to be the first SDI orbital defence platform."

"What hasn't been made general knowledge yet, is they are requesting the use of White Sands to test both a scaled up Graser, and a new version of their 'Hannah' platform. Which may put us less than 12 months away from a space and ground based ABM system."

"Second, we have noted an increase in readiness alerts of the USSR artillery regiments. And by that, we mean mobile ICBM's. Also, several Boomers we expected to be deployed have instead been held back for 'maintenance'. We have also noted that one of the units that has recently withdrawn from Afghanistan was highly experience and patriotic 103rd Guards Airborne Division, currently we are tracking it near Moscow."

"And finally, on top of this, the ABM batteries that ring Moscow have recently completed a readiness exercise. No Such Agency have confirmed all of this, as have our own intelligence intercepts."

"Cerberus may have been too successful in the SDI development. I think the Soviet military is spooked, in fact I think they are looking at their huge nuke stockpile and thinking it might be useless in a couple of years. No Such Agency intercepts are pointing to indicators from certain high ranking Soviet officers that they may be positioning themselves to launch a coup. If that happens, you can kiss all of Gorbachev's policies goodbye, and we may very well be then looking at a Soviet first strike and European ground war. World War Three in other words."

Herres looked at a suddenly uncomfortable looking room. "Now, the question is, do we tell the President our suspicions now, or wait until we have a new President?"

Waiting for a few seconds to see if anyone else wanted to break the silence, Crowe spoke up "Separate meeting, next week. Everyone shake your trees, see what Intel falls out. I am going to speak to the NSA, DIA and CIA, and see what they have".

"And on that note" said Crowe "Meeting adjourned. Thank you everyone for making it to this one, Herne will arrange the follow up, and please, hit the alarm if you find anything substantial".

March 1988, Cerberus R&D, Texas.

It was Christmas in the Cerberus computer labs, or it was as far as the two dozen tech heads were concerned.

All of their hard work for the last six months was about to be realised. On the right hand side of the lab were ten machines, built with different combinations of the latest cutting edge components, two of the ten machines were loaded with the first generation of the new Cerberus operating system.

On the left hand side of the lab however, well. Ten machines again, and again all with the latest cutting edge components, and two of those machines again loaded with the new Cerberus operating system.

However, all ten machines on the left had one small, but also highly significant difference. Some of the hardware components were Cerberus designed. And one of the Cerberus operating systems was running on a pure Cerberus hardware component machine.

There was no big switch to throw, no futuristic holographic displays leaping into existence. Instead, the tech leads were working through each machine in turn, bench marking the same software on each machine and compiling results. Apple, IBM, Microsoft, a bewildering combination of programs and hardware, all being compared back to the big four.

The initial testing was, well, boring. Brain numbing levels of life extinguishing boredom. Teams switched out after an hour to take a break. Every team was running the same tests on each machine, so that multiple results could be compared to reduce the risk of errors.

When the last results had been compiled, and the small dead forest was presented to Dr Ellis, who then spent the entire weekend plowing through the hard copy details from each team, comparing them against the spreadsheet details on his (personal) Cerberus machine.

When he had finished, at around 2am on Monday morning, he considered whether his final analysis was backed by the facts, and nodded to himself. He then allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. Anyone else would have been possibly waltzing down the corridor, dragging along the nearest security guard they could grab, howling at the moon in joy, but well.

That just wouldn't be appropriate behaviour for a well raised Englishman. So a small smile it was. Perhaps a glass of neat Scotch would be drunk in celebration. A small one. Then a few hours sleep, and the arrangement of a meeting with that crazed neanderthal of a boss later this week, when the other team heads had verified his conclusions.

Best to be sure before rubbing the results in Shepard's face. Politely. Take THAT Mr Graser.

The following week, Shepard was in the computer labs, leaning against one of the desks, as Dr Ellis presented what was obviously a computer, hidden under a sheet.

Dr Ellis swept his arm out to indicate one of the rows of computers that lined the sides of the rooms "All of these machines, that is, the ten machines on the left of the room - MY left - have outperformed the corresponding machine on the right - MY right. The Cerberus hardware components were installed on the left machines, and make a definite difference, and by that I mean improvement, in performance."

"Obviously depending on which component is being replaced, the degree of improvement will vary. CPU, RAM and of course, motherboard are all giving VERY significant improvements. All of the current competitor operating systems - or generic clone system equivalents - work successfully with Cerberus components. I should clarify that to be 'they work at least as successfully as a system that has NO Cerberus components'".

"This one machine here however is, to be frank, the market killer. It's an absolute beast, and I don't believe I am overstating that. It's as close as we could get to a pure 100% Cerberus component box, with a Cerberus operating system. It will do everything that ANY equivalent current competitor system will do, but at a rate of between twenty and fifty percent faster. And that's just the hardware."

Dr Ellis pulled down the sheet to reveal a large colour monitor, currently showing the Cerberus Operating System logo. A tap on the keyboard revealed a minimalist looking desktop, uncluttered, with several crisp, clear icons and buttons with clearly labelled, non technical names.

"Currently it doesn't have an official name. This combined system, the pure Cerberus variant, will retail for less than three thousand dollars. That's half the cost of the lowest price equivalent system. It's a GUI interface, and as requested, stable as a rock and simple to use. We even tested it on an third party"

Shepard raised an eyebrow and Dr Ellis clarified. "By that, I mean the gentleman who can't operate a simple hand scanner without it triggering an alarm half the time. However, even Jenkins was able to use it quite comfortably with no prior instructions. The next level of idiot proofing - my apologies, I mean of course user testing, will require some individuals of even lower intelligence than Jenkins, perhaps some of the Security personnel."

"There are also a few features that need a little additional work to smooth them out, but it's as close to perfection as I have seen in years. I thought you would like the honour of naming it?"

Shepard looked at the sleek contours of the new style monitor and keyboard, and the black, white and gold screen. He blanked out for a second as he flashed back to a question a rather drunken Subject Zero had slurred at him once.

"How the fuck does the cheerleader get that thing on in the morning? Does she paint it onto her ass? Or use a vacuum pump to suck it up to her pussy and nips? Come on Shep, I know you've hit that, and I neeeeeeeed to know..." before she gracefully passed out on the club floor.

Shepard nodded. "Miranda. We are calling the prototype Miranda. I'll clear it with Jack as to whether he wants to use that for the launch name. Superb work Dr Ellis, three months earlier than even my most wildly optimistic timeline. Finish off your tests and any debugging, I want a full presentation ready for May. If there are no issues, this is going to be the must have item for the Christmas of 88".

Dr Ellis acknowledged the praise with a nod of his head "that may be all well and good, but we currently have VERY limited stockpiles of the components. The OS isn't so bad, we can start producing those in bulk within a few weeks. There is no way you are going to be able to get things arranged for Christmas. We don't have the infrastructure."

Shepard grinned. "Make up another few of the Miranda's. I need to get Jack and Anderson on board, your team needs get the majority of the remaining bugs, I mean 'features' ironed out, asap. We might not have the infrastructure at this point, but I know a man who does. And Miranda might just be the system to convince him we have a similar vision. I'm going to say it again Dr Ellis, well done. VERY well done indeed".

March 1988, Evening, unknown location, somewhere in Langley, Virginia.

"Can you please explain to me again why your Colombian operations have completely failed to make any progress with dismantling the Medellín Cartel?" politely requested the visitor, a Lieutenant general by the name of Colin Powell, also the recently appointed National Security Advisor for President Reagan.

An extremely tired looking Robert Gates, CIA Deputy Director, playing with a pencil as he sat behind his very expensive desk. With the recent removal of William Casey due to complications with his brain tumour, Gates was effectively holding down two jobs.

"Oh, that's quite simple to explain. Cerberus Security. Everyone we bribe, ends up dead. Everyone we blackmail, ends up dead. Anyone who Cerberus thinks might be working for us, the KGB, or anyone that isn't them, well. You can probably guess how they deal with them" responded Robert Gates, CIA Deputy Director.

"And the uproar by our Greek allies over the recent unsanctioned operations in Athens? That particular incident apparently resulted in the inferno which destroyed 6 blocks of the city, and resulted in 84 deaths and nearly 200 injured?" quietly queried Powell.

"That has been tentatively identified as a Cerberus Security hit on a terrorist cell" replied Gates "which was in one of my recent reports. I assume you have not had an opportunity to review it?"

"To be honest Robert, I don't think I have even seen that one yet. What about the recent successes that South African has been enjoying in their border war?" asked Powell.

"Nothing concrete. But they definitely have a number of Cerberus teams working with them." confirmed Gates "We also think that Cerberus is sanction busting, but no proof. It's like hammering down a bag of leeches with a rubber mallet. Everything just bounces straight off, and the little bastards just keep on wriggling and sucking out blood.

"And the significant number of South African ex-military members that State decided would be a good idea to allow into this country?" asked Powell "though I think I know the answer already...".

"They are all Cerberus trainees, allegedly" said Gates, complete with air-quotes on the allegedly, "all legal and no angles we can use to have them kicked out. Last report puts them at battallion strength".

"And am I correct in understanding that Director Casey authorised multiple bugging attempts of Cerberus facilities?" clarified Powell.

"Oh, you mean the totally illegal attempts, that the FBI should be doing with a sign-off from a judge, not us? Yeah, they all failed." replied Gates with a frown, mentally smirking 'and my name is nowhere near the paperwork for those attempts' he thought.

"Seriously, I don't know what Casey was thinking. It's not like we don't have enough pressure coming down with the Contra issue, is it? What I mean is, we really, REALLY could do with avoiding stirring up any trouble at all on the domestic side in my opinion. Which Casey ignored" continued Gates.

"What I am hearing is your operations, and a number of sensitive areas around the globe, are seeing increasing interference from Cerberus. What about their ties to Star Wars? Can we put pressure on them there, to maybe take things down a notch elsewhere?" Powell suggested, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Are you joking? Give these guys another couple of years, and they will BE Star Wars. Word is they are launching the first platform in six months, it'll be weaponised in twelve, and the ground based ABM will be operational within eighteen months" drawled Gates, wondering if he could finally crack that 'nothing gets to me' calm composure Powell was renowned for.

"And that doesn't concern anyone? A US company with it's own private army, it's own space launch capabilities, and if they can upgrade it as anticipated, orbital energy weapons?" growled Powell.

"...when you put it like that, maybe? Well what do you want us to do? Legally, the CIA can't touch them - you are in the wrong building, that's the FBI's job. If you interfere with them, even just slow them down, you are screwing with national defence."

"And if anyone gets proof that leads back to you, a pissed off President is then going to advocate jail time. Let's face it, in the eyes of POTUS, these guys can do no wrong. Every time he meets Gorby, he just HAS to mention how well the SDI program is coming along." responded Gates.

Powell leaned back in his chair and grunted in acknowledgement. "Listen, the President isn't going to be around forever. I'm going to raise this with whoever the new guy is, and if he agrees, we need to put a leash on Cerberus. Hell, at the least we can send the I.R.S. after them."

"Thanks for your time Robert, I better get back to the White House and see what I've missed in the last couple of hours. I'm going to have another word with the NSA boys. Maybe they finally cracked whatever encryption this Shepard has developed for them. Speak later"

Powell stood and left the office. Gates waited until he was sure he had left before opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a small bottle of whiskey. "Goddamn you Casey. We have enough shit going on with Contra" Gates muttered to himself "Why the hell were you devoting so much attention to Cerberus? What's so important about them?".

April 1988, Fort Meade, Home of "No Such Agency" (...if it existed).

In a well lit cafeteria, several worn out analysts sucked down mugs of coffee, ranging from cold to scalding hot. No-one really noticed anymore what they were drinking, as long as it was loaded to the top with caffeine.

Requests had been flooding in for the last three weeks from the various branches of the military, requesting details on everything it seemed. Location confirmations for every Soviet officer that had a rank of General or higher. Supply manifests for Soviet subs in the last nine months. Communications between Soviet and Afghan troops.

Yes, it had been a hard few weeks. It really wasn't helping that ECHELON had been playing up for the last month either. But neither of those were what was causing a number of coffee-zombies to just sit, staring into space.

No, it was Powell and Casey, and now Gates. They had been riding Director Odom into the ground on the NSA's apparent inability to crack the Cerberus encryption on phone calls between Cerberus sites. As such, he had assigned a dozen technical personnel to run with it, multiple shifts for 24 hours a day coverage.

Suddenly, the door crashed open. An excited member of the Cerberus Decryption team announced to the room "The computers cracked one! It's being cleaned up now!"

The room emptied within seconds, the team members rushing back to the audio splicing room, where the data of a decrypted call was being transferred to an audio tape and cleaned up, so everyone could hear it.

"Twelve seconds seem a bit short to anyone else?" commented one. "The short ones have been selected for use with the computers, they are trying to brute force those while we manually work on some of the longer ones".

The tape was rewound, and the room held it's breath. The audio technician pressed play, and for a few second there was silence.

And then an instantly recognisible voice stated from the speakers ""Th-Th-Th- That's All Folks!"

The silence that followed this announcement from Porky Pig was broken by a scream of rage, as one of the technicians swept several days work off the work counter and onto the floor.

"GODDAMN CERBERUS! Now they are just FUCKING with us!"

Raised and heated voices broke out, fingers were pointed and 'a vigorous and frank discussion' was begun. Off to the other side of the room, two technicians returned to the cafeteria and their forgotten coffee.

Ignoring the faint bellowing that could be heard from the room they had just left, they contemplated how this latest 'success' was going to look when Odom found out.

"You know" started one of the thoughtful technicians "I think we are going about this completely the wrong way".

"Oh? This I have to hear, please share your thoughts" responded the other technician.

"Well, we can't crack it. If we can't crack it, the Soviets haven't got a chance. I doubt anyone else can crack it either".

The second technician frowned thoughtfully. "Debatable, I think the Brits or Israeli's might be able too, given enough time, but I see what you are saying. What's your point?"

The first technician finished off his coffee and dropped the mug back on the table. "If it's so hard, if not just outright impossible to crack, why aren't we enlisting Cerberus to make something similar for us? If they agree, we have some super-tough encryption. And maybe a peek into what the hell is protecting their other stuff. And if they refuse, well, guess that's up to Gates and the others to take up with Higher".

The second technician stroked his chin. "You know, you might have something there. So used to cracking anything, I never even thought of admitting it might actually have beaten us, and then ASKING Cerberus for help! It's not like they are a foreign country or anything, it's a US company. I'm going to write the proposal up for the Director. Want your name on it too?"

The first technician shrugged "Why the hell not. Don't think it can make things any worse than they currently are."

April 1988. Unknown location, USA.

In a large conference room, the walls of which were filled with large monitors or TV screens, sat a dark wood round table at the centre. Surrounding this table were a dozen large comfortable leather chairs. At the moment, ten of the twelve chairs were filled.

"The security sweep didn't find any issues with fifty-one itself, but an evaluation of the surrounding locale has identified several points where sustained observation and even recording could take place, and we would not be able to legally halt it. I had identified this potential security risk to the CIA, but unfortunately I don't think it has gone further due to his ill health. Vandenberg presented no such issues, totally clean".

The chairman of the meeting acknowledged the end of the report "Hmmm. Alright, leave that one with me Colonel Tilley, I'll bring it up with the President, suggest the Russian's might use it to see test flights of the new bomber. Pretty sure he will authorise a land-grab to expand the perimeter".

The seats surrounding the table were filled with ten men, ages looked to range from early 40's to late 60's. Most were in variations of casual suits, but three of the seats were occupied by men in USAF uniform.

"Speaking of the President, how confident are we that Bush is going to be the next one?" asked one of the suited men.

"It's not an issue Dick, the country isn't ready for a Democrat yet. Just as long as Bush accepted the offer...?" replied the chairman.

"He certainly did Henry. Once he is in power, I should receive a nomination for Sec Def. Once we have our hands on the Defence budget again, we can start to move additional funds around".

"Good. Funding has become a bit tight, actually that should be Very tight recently, with the unfortunate loss of two of the seats. Which brings us to future candidates. Casey isn't going to be around for much longer, and steps have been taken to make sure he can't reveal anything if he is interrogated whilst in surgery. The proposal was for Gates to be brought in as his replacement. Everyone has had some time to check him out - any reason to NOT bring him in?".

The chairman waited patiently, giving everyone a chance to make their final decision. Silence stretched out for ten seconds.

"Very well, we will make steps to bring him inside to offer him the eleventh seat. General McConnell, we can leave that one with you? Thank you. Now for the final seat. We need an engineer, someone on the cutting edge, with the correct mindset, considering the scenario we are dealing with. Thoughts?"

Again, silence stretched out for short period, before an elderly gentleman raised a hand off the table.

"I have thought of one particular candidate Henry, probably the best candidate in the country, but I don't think any of you is going to like it."

"Mr Duncan, please go ahead. If the head of DARPA has considered this and has determined who they believe is the best candidate for the position, we can at least consider them".

"Very well. Shepard".

Surprisingly the outburst of rejection and outrage he expected completely failed to materialise. Instead there was a deep silence, and a number of quiet, thoughtful 'hmmmm' noises.

"General Myers? You have something you wish to add?"

"Thanks Henry. I think we should turn to the Cerberus question first before Shepard is given any additional consideration, key items have been prepared, and if no-one objects, I would like to run a quick presentation?"

General Myers confirmed agreements from around the table, then stood up, walking to the wall of monitors. Three large photos were flashed up onto the screens.

"The key players".

"Jack Harper. Current age 45 according to his records. Overall head of Cerberus Industries, directly running Cerberus Logistics, started the company 14 years ago. Then split it into it's current three separate entities 5 years later. Original seed money came from family money, which he got full access to at the age of 30, when he became an orphan. Highly intelligent. Goal driven, has a knack for having the right people in the right place".

"David Anderson. Current age 39, accordingly to the records. Head of Cerberus Security. Ten years in the marines, Navy, Special forces. His records contradict each other a number of times, it's never 100% clear which branch he was actually a member of, but a veteran for sure. Compassionate, patriotic and stubborn as hell. Appears to have a VERY deep network of contacts in the military, word is that if your nose is clean, you can work for him when you leave the service, no problem. You have some issues, and he can still find a place for you".

"Finally, John Shepard. Current age, 32. One tour in Vietnam, came home, hit the books. Graduated from M.I.T, and apparently Anderson recommended him to Harper when Harper was recruiting his new head of Cerberus Security. He ended up with the head honcho position for R&D. Good people skills, and apparently absolutely insane engineering skills. Just to put that in context, this is the guy who has designed a significant part of the Cerberus Space Station modules, and both their ABM ground and orbital Graser units basically from scratch over the last two years".

"Now the problems. At the moment, these players are moving into a position where they are going to be our direct US opposition. We can't bug them. We can't hack them. Their Cerberus security now numbers in the thousands, and includes some of the best and nastiest operators in the SF community, including a large number who should be locked away for a VERY long time, so they completely out-number our own forces".

"They are also aware of the Predators, we are not sure the extent or depth of their knowledge, but that little fuck-up in Athens was thanks to multiple Cerberus teams trying to jump a Predator. They were willing to use multiple teams, and heavy man-portable weapons in a NATO country, in an urban environment, which just shows how serious they are about that situation, and also how completely clueless they are. Fortunately our own capture teams were able to withdraw unharmed, and undetected".

"The Cerberus advances that have been made, technologically, are VERY suspicious. The step by step incremental increases you would expect to see in a number of areas are totally absent. It's as though they had an idea, then a concept, and then a fully working prototype - skipping steps three through ten. We however have ZERO indication of any information or material leaks from either fifty-one or Vandeberg. And we have checked, repeatedly".

"In fact, the advances they are revealing are in totally different directions we are heading. We've used ideas and materials from the ship in fifty-one to boost our own advancements, culminating in the latest bomber for example, which is basically invisible to Radar. In comparison, before we make the B2 known to the public, Cerberus could have a goddamn orbital laser, sorry, Graser cannon pointing at our heads, mounted on their very own space station, which puts them on par with the fucking USSR".

"Actually" interrupted one of the men "from my calculations that is highly unlikely at this stage. My understanding is the power requirements for such a weapon system would be immense, between one and four Megawatts per shot, and that would be dedicated generation capacity purely to power the weapon, otherwise you would knock out the stations own power. Unless you see major advances in reactor designs, they would need to boost at least twenty, probably thirty reactors into orbit to make that minimum level of power usage."

"Apologies Dr Wheeler, there was a recent update there. It would appear that NASA were working on several advanced Fission reactor models. Shepard then, we think, acquired their latest designs and promptly built some, with a power range averaging 80KW. Their Space Station component design will use them, and they are boosting them four at a time, to power each section of the station."

"Which would be an approximate additional 300KW capacity for each launch, and Cerberus has three launches currently scheduled just for this year. Unfortunately that would then mean we can expect the at the very least your minimal power requirement to be available on the orbital platform by the time a Graser is launched."

"But...but...this is a potential disaster! You have to stop them!" Dr Wheeler spluttered "We could end up with Soviet missiles raining down on us if they thought we were placing a shield in orbit to strip them of their nuclear option!".

A previously quiet member raised his hand, and General Myers pointed at him. "Zinski, what are your thoughts?".

"This is something I have personally be pondering since the Athens debacle. Robert's suggestion of who he thinks should fill the remaining seat show's I am not the only one thinking along these lines. Hear me out."

"Computers, recording devices, communication advances. We have probably a window of, worst case ten years, best case thirty years before proof of the Predators is captured and released via a wide enough media medium that we can't cover it up this time. Basically outing the situation to the world. Maybe the Predators will stay away if we have developed basic defences against Alien intrusion prior to that time frame..."

He paused, and shook his head.

"More likely, they will take it as a greater challenge, until someone ends up destroying one of their craft itself, and we have no idea what retaliation that might trigger. We need to look at the future. Our primary mission, is the defence of the USA. And, to be blunt, we are currently failing our mission. This desperate desire to keep all our secrets away from EVERYONE is now actively sabotaging our own mission. I am wondering, no, let me change that."

"We must, we HAVE to talk to Cerberus, if only to prevent another Athens, but possibly to prevent them inadvertently triggering World War Three. And who knows, maybe Shepard would be the IDEAL candidate for the last seat".

Myers looked around the room, then returned to the table and sat down again, and turned to look at Mr Duncan.

"Well, look. If we are going to do it, the sooner the better. Robert? You've got the best reason to talk to Harper or Shepard, thanks to SDI. How do you think we should play this? Do you want any of us to come with you? Do you want to bring them to somewhere like fifty-one?"

Robert Duncan shook his head. "Give me a copy of the original Truman order, a report on the Roswell Predator vessel, and the REAL report on Carswell. And, uh, Athens. I'll see if I can arrange a meeting with all three at once, on their home turf. What would I be offering to bring them on board?"

Henry Kissinger drummed his fingers on the table "If they accept the initial documents without laughing in your face, arrange a follow-up meeting for them with Majestic as early as you can."

"Personally, I would like to wake up in a few months, and for the world to still be here."

"Currently, that's starting to look like less and less of a certainty as we hit the end of each week".


	17. 17 - Cerberus Rising, Part 1

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - And finally the threads start to be drawn together, another split chapter. WARNING RAPE TRIGGER. Dark and Nasty events abound. Historical events may start to be impacted now, as the ripples from Cerberus actions spread further and further afield. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter 17 - Cerberus Rising - Part 1.

April 1988, NW Colombia, FARC Compound, Front 12.

Captain Andre Diedericks refocused his binoculars on the FARC compound. Still quiet, a few armed people moving around, no tension visible in their movements. "Everyone is in position sir" was the quiet confirmation from his RTO.

Andre nodded and rechecked the compound, still not seeing any indication of awareness of the surrounding MAS and Cerberus forces, nearly two hundred strong in total between them.

'Well, either we have the drop on them, or it's a trap. Not seeing anything to suggest a trap. And the MAS units have been making more noise than a herd of Cape Buffalo.' Andre thought 'And orders are orders' he concluded. "Jan, green light for mortars, fire for effect".

Jan relayed the command on the tactical net, and seconds later Andre could hear the metal rattle of shells being dropped into tubes, followed by the 'thoom' noise as they were lofted towards the compound. The mortar team nearby was one of three that Cerberus had deployed for this operation.

Still with his binoculars trained on the compound, he saw the first rounds of the mortar stonk begin to walk across the compound. People were running everywhere, some to dive into buildings for cover, others who were carrying weapons to the perimeter of the compound, ready to defend the following attack.

As Andre had expected, and had counted on. He noted each the defensive positions as they were manned, one by one. He flinched slightly when a particularly lucky mortar round impacted on what he guessed were several fuel drums, considering the fiery explosion that resulted. "Cease fire on the Mortar teams, RPG assault now".

Jan quickly called out the ceasefire and instructions for the next stage of the assault. In rapid succession, six more Cerberus teams opened up on the previously identified prepared defence positions. These six-man teams had all pre-loaded their RPG-7's, and fired them off in pairs from each team, to stagger the hits and maximise the destruction of the defence positions.

'Splat' thought Andre as he saw one particularly unlucky FARC soldier catch the majority of an RPG blast and effectively disintegrate from the hit, chunks of his body scattering around the area.

"Order the MAS units in, and stage three. Priority on securing the HQ, strike teams are a go."  
Supporting each of the Cerberus RPG teams had been MAS paramilitary units, each unit 12 - 15 strong.

A mixed bag of nationalities in each unit, the majority were Colombian paramilitary personnel, with two or three mercenaries added for additional strength, normally British or Israeli. Once given the order, each of the six units began to move towards the compound, firing as they advanced.

Andre continued to monitor the attack, noting here and there friendly MAS unit members dropping to the ground, wounded or dead. Either was good from his perspective. MAS, as far as he was concerned, was an acronym for 'MeAt Shield'.

He noted his commander equivalent of the MAS units had moved closer to the fighting, and was keeping his units moving forward. whilst his command guard were trying to extract any wounded nearby 'A good commander, looks after his men well, and sharp as a knife. Can't have him still around, best to remove this future problem now.'

"Jan? Jericho, MAS primary". Shortly after the relayed instruction, the MAS commander slumped forward, the majority of his head missing from the sniper round. 'Good shot. Oh, and there go the strike teams, knife through butter. Swart is at the HQ, ready to breach. Operation is nearly wrapped up now'.

Sergeant Swart ducked back down below the open window of the HQ building and held up three fingers to the rest of his team clustered around him. One of his team placed a hand on a grenade, but Swart shook his head.

One of his team suddenly grunted and pitched to the floor, slapping his hands to his leg, blood spilling out between his fingers. Immediately another member ripped a bandage packet open, and a second member sliced the black leg material open with his knife, revealing a mangled mess of bone and flesh, which was spilling blood everywhere.

Swart swore, and stuck his hand out for the grenade. Feeling it slapped in his hand he pulled out the pin, held it for two seconds and lobbed it into the far corner near the radio. There was barely time for an warning exclamation from one of the FARC guards inside before the metal ball exploded. Swart popped up and opened up with his AK-74, putting a burst into the three bodies on the ground, just in case.

"Piet, Robberts, patch him up and get him out of here. You two, with me. Grab any papers that look interesting, we need this place stripped and torched so they don't know what we took, I'll guard. Move it, if the Captain is sticking to the usual timetable, we will have ten minutes before we torch the entire compound!"

Meanwhile Andre was listening to Jan's status updates from the various teams. As far as he could see, the last FARC fighters were down, leaving the support people. He focused his view on one small group of MAS members, who were clustered around a flailing figure on the ground.

The tearing away of clothes from the person on the ground, and the undoing and dropping down of one man's pants told him everything that he need to know.

He and his men were hard, yes. Killers, yes. Rapists?

Hell no.

Not one Cerberus man under his command would dare, they knew what would happen, and he had already warned the combined forces of the conduct he expected.

Technically the MAS men weren't under his direct command and had probably chosen to ignore him,if they had even listened to his announcement. And unfortunately the MAS commanding officer had a slight case of death, thanks to a high caliber Sniper supplied lead injection to the head.

Even from this distance he could hear the woman's screams as the MAS man dropped to his knees in preparation to force himself into her. No, no, not allowed.

"Jan. Jericho on the kneeling MAS rapist scum, and then each MAS squaddie that's standing around with their pants down. Strike teams to intercept any MAS teams that intervene, and let's get down there ourselves."

"Apparently I need to reinforce my earlier expectations and re-educate these MAS idiots on how Cerberus run an operation. Guess we will need to stretch a few necks today after all."

As Jan hastily issued the instructions, the woman's screams and struggles turned into pleading as she was pinned stationary, and amid cheers from the surrounding men, the man thrust inside her. A broken wail rose from the victim, and other MAS members quickly undid their own clothing, ready for their turn.

Andre's command team arrived at the FARC compound moments later to the sight of three half-naked MAS troopers collapsed dead on the ground. The rest of that particular MAS team were all kneeling on the ground, hands on their heads under the watchful eyes and aimed guns of a Cerberus strike team.

The female victim was curled in a weeping ball on the ground next to them. The wreckage of the battle, and dead bodies of both the FARC defenders and MAS attackers littered the compound.

Making sure his pistol was drawn, loaded and held down by his side, Andre walked up to the MAS second in command, who was screaming at the stone faced Cerberus soldiers guarding the MAS troops.

"Those rapists were your men, and were under your direct command, correct?" Once the red faced man had stuttered an agreement, Andre smoothly raised his arm and shot him point blank in the face. There was a low moan of fear from several of the kneeling men.

He turned to the kneeling and mostly terrified MAS troops, noting that none of the mercs had been attached to this particular group, or none had survived the assault. The last he found unlikely.

"This is a Cerberus operation. I don't know how MAS does things, if perhaps this is a normal activity you would engage in while on an operation. Well, Cerberus does not. I made it ABSOLUTELY clear before we initiated this operation, any acts of rape or torture would not be tolerated."

One of the kneeling men spat at Andre "Just because you like little boys, Cerberus Faggot. Real men like pussy, and FARC pussy is all the sweeter for the fight to get it".

Andre looked at him blankly. "I like little boys?" Andre repeated bemusedly, as he walked to the weeping woman, pointed the pistol her, and fired three bullets into her head.

"I don't think my wife would like being called a little boy. Sergeant Clegg, find some rope, hang every one of these would-be rapists. Bad knots please, they should dance for a while to reflect why they are there. Sergeant Nolan, take two squads to the FARC support personnel that have been captured. Quick and easy Nolan, bullets to the head. Swart. You have the recovered papers? Good, hand them over and organise the torching of the HQ. Off you go".

Andre walked away from the compound with the satchel of FARC papers in hand, ignoring the screams and gunfire behind him as his orders were followed.

'Quite a good result there.' he mused 'Another FARC unit destroyed maybe one-fifty in total, MAS  
lost probably a third of their troops and a decent commander, and we get paid a bonus for another compound eliminated. Hope Anton isn't too pissed at the number of MAS men hung, but, orders are orders after all...'.

April 1988, Tumpo Triangle, Angola.

By March 1988, the Cerberus presence in the South African border war was huge. Of their (approximate) six thousand active Cerberus Security personnel available, a full third were committed to the various SA operations. It was surprisingly easy to supply them from the Continental US, and the equipment used ranged from older Soviet types such as RPG-7's, through to advanced recent American items, with the favourite Anti-Air weapon in their arsenal being the Stinger.

One of the most limiting factors for the SADF operations had always been their lack of manpower, and the corresponding need to minimise casualties where possible. Cerberus had eased those factors significantly.

Another important factor for South Africa was that Cerberus was supplying small bulk (relatively) but high value industrial and military items. Spare parts for the Air force. Circuits and electronic components for both the military and mining industry. Medicine. They shared both economic and military intelligence related to the world as a whole, training and educational items for new manufacturing and resource extraction techniques.

South Africa didn't have a lot of hard currency to pay for this, but were more than happy to provide Cerberus with the two things it really wanted. The tacit support of a country other than the US, even if that country was a global pariah like South Africa. It gave them a fallback option if the worst happened. And the other?

Platinum. Pretty much everything that South Africa was receiving was being paid for with refined platinum. On average South Africa was providing 1.5 Metric TONNES of Platinum a month to Cerberus. Which translated as approximately 10% of the entire global monthly production. And as far as the Apartheid government was concerned, they were worth every ounce.

Especially as they had apparently turned the tide of the Border War firmly in South Africa's favour.

Sergeant Cooper, previous member of 2 PARA, veteran of Northern Ireland and Goose Green, veteran of more than six months of Angola's particular brand of insanity as part of Cerberus Security, was now officially a very happy man.

Stretched in front of him was the most glorious sight of at least two Cuban artillery batteries. Stacked next to the guns, ready for the gun bunnies to start loaded, were stacks of 130mm ammunition. All virtually unguarded.

Apparently the Cuban commander considered a distance of ten or so miles from the front to be enough of a gap to allow the majority of his unit to sleep.

And here was Cooper, with his personal squad of throat slitters, and two more squads from Cerberus supporting him. Was it Christmas? It felt like Christmas. He carefully eased his way back down the slight slope and into the scrub bush at the bottom.

The other squad commanders joined him.

"Jones-one, take your boys to the north end of the line, there is a couple of guards smoking. slit 'em up nice and quiet. Jones-two, south side and the same. When you have both finished, start walking the gun line, place timed charges until you meet in the middle. One hour timers will be plenty. I'll take my lads, circle around the back, hit those guards and then start on the sleeping ones. Any questions? No? Meet back here in about thirty minutes. And if you are going to take any souvenirs, tell 'em to be quick about it. Go."

Cooper collected his squad and then spent a few minutes walking around the edge of the camp, until they could see the trio of Cuban's standing guard outside the HQ tent, smoking of all things. 'Great, totally shafted their night vision.' he thought. With a few whispered commands, the squad split into pairs, each with their assigned target.

The simple trick of a clod of earth gently thrown against the side of the tent caused one of the guards to flick his cigarette to the ground, and walk around the corner to investigate.

A hand clamped on his mouth and several knife thrusts, and the dry Angolan soil was sucking up rich red Cuban blood again.

The noise caused the remaining guards to stir, one called out to their missing member. When there was no response after a few seconds, they looked at each other, also dropped their cigarettes and raised up their AK-47's in preparation to investigate.

From behind them, coming around the back of the HQ tent, were the remaining members of Coopers squad. A couple of seconds to close the distance, hand on mouth and knife in back from one member, grabbing of weapon from Cuban hand to prevent it falling to the ground or being triggered by the dying guard from the other half of the pair.

The Cerberus squad waited for the count of ten to see if anyone stirred, when nothing did, then started to ghost through the tents. One by one the rasping snores fell quiet. For once, Murphy seemed to be on holiday as nothing went wrong.

Fifteen minutes since they had started sneaking up, the throat slit corpses of over fifty men were all that was left of Cuban forces in this area. Cooper even had the time to sweep through the HQ, grabbing maps and any document that looked vaguely interesting. "Fucking Spics. Can't have the decency to write this shit in English, can they?" he bitched to himself

"Hello, what's this one?".

Cooper looked at the map with interest, or more precisely, at several marked areas, roughly ten miles away at a guess going by the scale on the map. He wandered back out the HQ tent, rejoining his squad. "Back to the Jones's, I've got something here I need one of them to look at".

The three squads had reassembled by the time the agreed thirty minutes had expired. Cooper waved the map towards one of the other squad members. "Oi! Tommy! You read Spaniel don't cha? What the fuck does that say?".

Tommy muttered "Spanish, not Spaniel you prick" but took the map and flicked his torch across it. He absorbed what was on it, and then looked at Cooper. "You are fucking shitting me. Yeah, I made sure I memorised this one, figured I would really need to know what it meant, if I ever came across it. Colonel Fouche is going to want kiss you. Those marked areas are minefields."

Cooper made a snap decision. "Jones-one and two, grab your boys and reset the timers, give us the full hour. Leave your maps here, I'm going to scribble the marked areas on this Spic one over onto our maps. When you get back, we all leave, the priority now is getting at least one of these maps back to the Boers. When these guns blow, sure as shit the area will be crawling with nig-nogs. Got it? Well fuckin' move it then, we ain't got all night!".

April 1988, White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico, USA.

Shepard and Dan were standing in a buried observation bunker, watching a bank of monitors eagerly. Several of the monitors showed a layered steel/concrete square, approximately 15cm of steel plate standing in front of a metre thick concrete slab. Views being shown were the front, sides and rear of the square.

Other monitors showed a large tent, marquee style, with the sides pinned open. A large blocky device was stationed inside, with a laser designator stationed below it, which had been used to confirm the target was in line with the large device inside the tent.

Fairly important, considering the target was three miles away. And the device about to be fired was a  
prototype orbital graser.

Standing with the Cerberus employee's were a number of military personnel. There was a certain level of quiet excitement to the room, this was the test firing of what might be a new class of weapons.

"Range is clear, warning transmitted to all areas".  
"Sky is clear, no traffic within at least twenty miles".  
"Satellite window has started. Next bird overhead in sixteen minutes".  
"Air quality nominal. Humidity low. Wind is effectively zero".  
"Graser capacitor charge level at 97% and holding".

Shepard nodded to Dan, who confirmed to the test commanding officer to relay to the firing technicians, "Fire when ready".

"Confirmed weapon release authorisation given. Firing orbital graser prototype in three, two, one..."

The firing command sent, the graser exploded into action, the steel plate of the target glowing a cherry red within seconds.

And then the graser simply...exploded.

Fortunately everyone was (a) underground, and (b) over 400 metres away from the weapon installation site, as the resulting explosion, fireball and smoking crater in the ground was impressive to say the least.

Shepard slapped a hand over his eyes, and gave a deep sigh of exasperation. Dan's shoulders drooped in disappointment and he said to Shepard "I guess that means we need to postpone the Hannah 3.0 test until we've looked at the results of this little hiccup, right?".

Shepard nodded tiredly. "That's another ten million dollars and three months wasted".

Dan scratched his chin "But it worked. Jethro, can you, ah, can you replay the target's recorded video from the test firing start, the view from straight on?".

The technician indicated fiddled with the trackball and his console and one of the monitor displays flickered back, and then replayed the first five seconds of the test firing.

It was easy to see the spot being targeted by the graser, as a circular spot on the steel plate changed colour and expanded for those seconds. Even after the beam had been disrupted, the colour and size remained, slowly fading as the seconds ticked past.

"See?" crowed Dan "I bet if we went over there and shoved a knife or something into the hot spot, the metal would be softened enough to penetrate a bit. That gizmo pumped a heck of a lot of energy into that teeny weeny spot".

Shepard grumbled "I don't get it, we checked everything. Twice. The rig was test fired yesterday on a short range target, and it worked fine. Why the hell did it fail?".

The test commanding officer leaned towards the technicians. "Back everything up to the start of the test firing, run the monitor displays again for that five second period. Just the graser feeds."

Everyone watched carefully. Nothing.

"Again". Nothing.

"Again". Still nothing.

"Again". Nothing. Wait. "What was that on camera 12?"

"Again". "There? You see that?".

"Just camera 12, run it". "That, that looks like something just coming on screen in the last second..."

"Once more". Stunned silence.

"Was that a...horse?" asked Shepard. "Ahhh...actually I think we just pumped an orbital satellite weapon into an antelope. At point blank range." said Dan. "Gemsbok if I'm not mistaken".

Shepard looked around and found an empty chair, which he flopped into. He chuckled. "Well I guess we can eliminate equipment failure. The heat build up within such a short distance of the firing aperture probably warped it, and then the graser basically shot itself. We can probably rule out sabotage too, unless the KGB have gotten desperate enough to use remote controlled cattle".

Dan looked at the test commanding officer "Okay! That means that the new improved Hannah test can go ahead, right? Right?".

Dan gave a big toothy grin when the officer gave a reluctant nod in confirmation.

One of the observing military officers leaned closer to another "One things for sure, if the Sovs know what we were testing here, at least that big smoking crater in the ground is going to cheer SOMEONE up today".

April 1988, Cerberus R&D Complex, Texas, USA.

"Thanks for coming at such short notice Steve" said Jack, hold out his hand for Steve Jobs to shake "I see you also brought a few of your team along as I requested, that's good".

Steve took the hand and looked around the large testing lab they had been escorted to by a number of security personnel, having to run through a number of hand scanners and in the final instances, retinal scanners too. Physical security on the premises was obviously taken very seriously.

Steve had wondered, when he and several of the NeXT team had arrived at the initial security gate, if he was going to walk into some sort of white sterile corporate drone area, or if it was going to be more along the lines of the NeXT madhouse.

It wasn't quite as white and sterile as he feared, but the whole security side just smacked of something from his worst nightmares. For a brief moment when the final retinal scan was passed and the steel doors opened, he wondered if they were walking into some insane trap, where he and his team - recent competitors of Cerberus apparently - were going to be imprisoned or just 'disappeared'  
mysteriously.

And the STEEL doors were everywhere! Why the hell would they need steel doors? And if you expected someone that serious to attack, wouldn't the attackers just find it easier to go through the wall next to the doors? Or were they steel too?

When the doors opened fully and revealed their destination room however, it almost felt like being back at home. A dozen computer lab technicians, wearing anything from actual lab coats (complete with pockets stuffed with pens) to grotty t-shirts and shorts and sandals scurried around, making sure everything was in place.

For a second he couldn't remove his eyes from tracking one young lady, who had a head full of short delicate looking pink spikes of hair 'like a pink hedgehog!' he mused gleefully, remembering how they looked from a nature article he had read once.

None of the security personnel entered the room, instead the lined the walls outside as the doors slid shut. One of the lab coat wearing members of the Cerberus team, though this one only had a couple of pens in his pocket, stepped forward and also held his hand out to Steve.

"Mr Jobs. It is a genuine pleasure for myself to finally meet you Mr Jobs. I'm Dr Ellis, leader of the Miranda development for Cerberus, and also a huge admirer of yours, and what you bring to your work".

Steve smiled and shook the offered hand. "Good to meet you Dr Ellis. With me are some of the key players from our current company, NeXT. Jack says that you have something special you would like to share with us all?".

Steve paused looking at some of the machines around the room. There was a lot of generic looking machines, some IBM boxes, a VERY interesting sheet covered machine, and... "You have Mac's in here as well?".

Dr Ellis blinked. "You seem surprised Mr Jobs. The latest Macintosh machines are well in the top level of personal computers on the market at this time. That particular box is the best system we could acquire, a snip at a mere eleven thousand dollars. The one next to it is also the same system. Well, mostly. A few components have been isolated and then replaced with - ".

Jack reached forward and placed a hand on Dr Ellis's shoulder. "Let's not let the cat out of the bag straight away shall we? The presentation first?".

"Oh yes, yes of course. My apologies Mr Harper, I was getting caught up in the moment, I can see it being quite historic!".

Steve looked at Dr Ellis. He seemed quite flushed with excitement. Glancing around the room again, the general air of all of the Cerberus staff seemed tense, but an excited tension, an EAGERNESS. They have something new, something to be proud about. They WANTED to share it - with competitors?

Smiling at Dr Ellis and Jack, he waved at them "Please! You haven't asked us to come half way across the country for nothing. You even paid for the trip, first class too. Come on Jack, I just know you are itching to wow us. Present away!"

Jack and Dr Ellis retreated to the end of the computer lab. Jack explained to the room "I've heard a lot about the Steve's, the two guys who were each a genius in their own field, who dared to take on the world from nothing. I was shocked when Steve Jobs was 'encouraged' to part company with Apple. I knew he wouldn't stay out of the game though, and when he took a few true-believers with him and started on something new, I kept my ear to the ground."

"I challenged Steve to have a working prototype of a low-cost, high capability machine by December 1988. And by low cost, I mean something that can match the Mac over there, for a tenth of the cost. That's right, a thousand dollar machine that can beat anything on the market, hands down."

Several of the NeXT employees were shaking their heads in obvious disbelief. There was even a dismissive snort from one.

"I warned Steve that I had a secret weapon. Shepard. But in this case, Shepard wasn't the only weapon Cerberus had. The Cerberus team in this room, especially Dr Ellis, and their hard work and vision of the future are the one's who have truly made this possible."

Jack spread his arms wide, taking in all the machines in the room. "Every machine here is the best that could be built or bought from the current market. On one side of the room, it's ONLY what you can get from the current market. On the other side, certain components or the Operating System itself has been replaced with a Cerberus version. Dr Ellis?".

Dr Ellis nodded. "An excellent example is the top end Mac we discussed before. Opposite it, are two other top end Mac's".

"On one of these two modified machines, the hardware is all original, but the OS has been replaced with a Cerberus one. The Cerberus OS identifies the components it is interfacing with, and adjusts itself accordingly."

"The adjusted machine next to it is the opposite way round. The OS is the original Apple version, but the majority of the components have been replaced with Cerberus equivalents. Which are fully compatible with any OS on the market at this time, and pretty much any combination of other hardware components."

The NeXT team looked at staggered. "That sounds basically impossible" stuttered one of the members. Dr Ellis nodded emphatic "Absolutely. That's what we thought as well when it was proposed. We already had the OS mostly ready when Shepard walked in with a box full of different components - Cerberus versions he said - and a several floppy discs full of drivers and other settings support for inclusion."

Dr Ellis pointed to the large bound A4 sized books beside each machine. "Specs of the particular machine, compiled testing results and comparisons" and then to several empty cases and sealed boxes next to them "Cerberus and non-Cerberus components. If you want to have a go at some point, myself or the team would be more than willing to help you build a machine or two, test them and compare against other machines, just not today!".

Steve, who had been watching Jack carefully, saw the little lip twitch. "I would say this is when you pull back the sheet on the machine at the back of the room, the one that is behind you both?".

Jack nodded. "This is the complete Cerberus system, where all components are Cerberus, as is the OS. Shepard named it Miranda, and that's what this particular product will be packaged as when it goes into production".

The sheet was dropped, revealing a large, stylishly contoured colour monitor, with a crisp clear display of the Cerberus OS in the screen. The resolution was staggering. The keyboard and mouse lay next to it, again with rounded contours, designed for better grip or wrist support. Everything looked, well. Like something from the future. Steve was looking at something that gave people what they wanted, and what they NEEDED, even if they didn't realise it at the time.

Jack looked at Steve. "I would very much appreciate it if your team could spend sometime going over Miranda, building a couple more units and deciding what else you would like to see included. This month. Because at the end of that period, I was hoping you would admit Cerberus 'won' the bet."

Jack continued "I want NeXT to be producing the Miranda product, from your factory in California, stockpiling them ready for a Christmas launch. I want Steve Jobs to be in charge of the Cerberus product range. Hell, if you want, I'll BUY your company and then put you in charge of it".

"But one thing won't be changing Steve, even if you aren't interested in being a part of this. Miranda WILL be launching for this Christmas, and the retail price that a customer will pay for a Miranda unit, will be one thousand dollars, even if Cerberus take a loss on every unit."

Jack then grinned at the NeXT team "but for now - why don't I just leave you all to play with the new toys and compare notes? Speak to you later Steve. Think it over."


	18. 18 - Cerberus Rising, Part 2

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - Talky talky chapter, but now everything from the last two years is coming to the boil. Just an FYI, my writing uses British English spelling, not American English, which might be why some words look incorrectly spelt.

I need some advice from the Mass Effect readers. At what range does space combat in the ME universe normally take place do you think? 50 Kilometres? 5000? 25,000? 100,000? I am guessing at a 500 - 5000 Kilometre range. Drop a review or PM and let me know your opinion.

Chapter 18 - Cerberus Rising - Part 2.

April 1988, Fort Meade, Maryland, USA. NSA? Never heard of them.

David Anderson found himself in an uncomfortable position. He was sat deep inside a fairly nondescript building within the Fort Meade complex. Admittedly, the chair was pretty comfortable. The office he was in, was well lit and spacious, about as comfortable an office as you could design.

The two large armed gentleman stood either side of him were just one of those things you put up with, when you were 'invited' to attend a meeting with William Odom. No problem there.

William Odom, current Director, and therefore head of, the National Security Agency - also known as "No Such Agency", and the source of Anderson's current level of discomfort.

The current NSA director was busy trying to incinerate David using the power of his mind, if the glare was anything to go by. Through gritted teeth Odom snarled "What do you mean, no?!".

David shrugged apologetically "Look Mr Odom. While I am surprised to hear that the NSA is having issues monitoring communications in the area of Cerberus facilities, I really don't see why we would be willing to allow your technicians to wander around our facilities at will, and strip out or dismantle anything they choose to. If I did agree to such a proposal, you can bet I would be out of a job hours later."

William practically spat out "This is a NATIONAL SECURITY matter! Your company is involved in Top Secret work, and we need to be able to monitor communications to protect that work. If you continue to prevent us from fulfilling our role, then the only thing we can surmise, is that you and your people are HIDING something!.

David looked at William as though he was a particularly dumb sack of shit. "First, of course we are hiding something. Any of our competitors, including other nations, would just love to access our work."

"Second, as I am sure you are aware, any actions that interfere with our current TS projects, would themselves become a national security issue."

David paused. "Third, and finally, if YOU can't crack our security, what makes you think anyone else can? Does that mean the Soviets are better? The Japanese? Who?".

William looked up at the two armed guards. "Get out! OUT! NOW!". The startled guards looked at each other for a second, before leaving the room and closing the door.

William opened a side drawer on his desk, and flicked a couple of switches, then returned to glaring at Anderson, who returned a blank face. William's glare suddenly dropped off and instead, he started to cackle in laughter.

"Damn you Davey, you are still as stubborn now as you were when I had to deal with your stupid shit back in Nam. Okay, the room is sealed and secure as I can make it. Cut the bullshit. What the HELL are you guys using over there?".

David scratched his chin, and his lips twitched into a smile. "I have to say Will, wasn't sure if you recognised me, especially when you started playing all hardball. You know that just gets my back up. I actually spoke to Jack before I came here, we were trying to guess what you might be wanting to discuss".

"Jack? Jack Harper? Never liked the guy, always struck me as the bastard step-child of a rattlesnake and a scorpion. I can sure as hell respect what he's built up though. Well? Don't leave me in suspense over here, I'm certainly not getting any younger. Time to spill the beans Davey. This is me, I'm a big boy. Hit me".

David nodded "well, I was authorised to paint in broad strokes what systems we currently have. Shepard and a bunch of the guys tightened security about a year ago, when we publicly started getting into areas that people - the Soviets especially - would have great interest in."

Odom picked up a pen and indicated to a pad on his desk. David nodded agreement to the note taking, and continued "They pulled together a combined Scrambler / Encryption system. The Scrambler part, as far as I understand it, is built into the phones, it's actually required hardware for any of our phones to work. So only a Cerberus phone can talk to a Cerberus phone. And mess with a phone, and it just stops working."

David ran his hand over his scalp 'damn, need to shave this again' he thought. "The Encryption side however, well, that's something special. Most Cerberus calls are internal to the complex they originate from, okay? Right. The calls that actually leave the complex go through the exchange, and through a pre-exchange if you will from our side."

"That actually uses a one-time encryption. For every single external Cerberus site telecommunication.  
Anyone that needs to dial a normal external number? Uses a normal external line. Separate exchange and lines, no encryption or scrambling."

"Cerberus security record all of those calls, and they are scanned by internal systems for keywords. Between 90% and 100% of all external calls to a non-Cerberus phone are physically reviewed by a member of Cerberus security within 2 hours of the call."

"So Will, do you think there is a problem here? Do you really need to have your spooks listening into the calls that are internal to Cerberus?".

William mentally reviewed what he had been told. "You are telling me, that your company has multiple telecommunication systems? Hardware and software encryption and / or scrambling? Near real time monitoring and physical review of anything not protected ? I know you guys only have, what, ten, twelve thousand employees, but that's still a hell of an expensive system Davey!".

David nodded again "Oh yeah, it sure is, but it's also worth it's weight in gold. We actually nailed a Soviet infiltrator within the first week, not to mention a couple of thieves. So I've spilled the beans, told you what I can. What's the problem?".

William grunted "we are getting pressure from the CIA and the NSA - the other NSA, Powell. Not sure what your friends have been doing, but they certainly rattled some cages. You've also managed to challenge and infuriate a whole bunch of our technicians. This was the single communication we have cracked so far".

William opened his desk again, and withdrew a Walkman and headphones which he offered to Anderson. "Just press play when you are ready, the tape is already at the starting point".

Anderson listened, and then chortled as he heard Porky Pig. "That's the Security to Logistics test message. A different message gets fired from each site at random times to confirm there are no line or decryption issues. Each message is just a short line from a cartoon character, unique signature for each originator and destination site. I think the Security to R&D is Bugs".

William thought this one over. So. the cracked communication wasn't a joke aimed at challenging his staff. And it was a waste of NSA resources and time to continue trying to unravel the communications being sent internally. The method sounded about as secure as you could get, and would be incredibly expensive to try and implement.

The Fort Meade facility alone employed twice as many people as the entire of Cerberus. Pointless to try an implement it on a broad scale. But maybe on smaller scale, only for key areas? Direct lines to CONUS or NORAD for example? Hmmmmm...

Anderson slid the Walkman back onto Odom's desk and waited for the NSA Director's thought process to stop chasing it's own tail.

William drummed his fingers on the desk. "Would Cerberus be willing to duplicate their communication process for a selected number of sites? Using the same hardware and encryption you use at the moment? Obviously we would need to work out the details fully, but if you had to make a gut-call Davey, would your guys be willing and able?

Anderson nodded instantly. "I really don't see a problem with that. I'll be meeting the others this weekend, so I will try to remember to propose it to them then. Cost would obviously depend on the scope of what you want." He stood up and offered William his hand, who shook it. "Good to talk again Will. Call if you need anything".

April - Unknown Dacha, south of Moscow

The raised voice coming from the Dacha they were guarding was nearly audible to the KGB guards patrolling outside. Fortunately for the guards, they could not quite hear what was being said, otherwise they would have all ended up in shallow graves.

"We ALL know the truth. That bastard Gorbachev is RUINING this country. He is splintering the controls on the people. He is withdrawing from Afghanistan. He is limiting our nuclear arsenal, and reducing defence funding. And this is all at a time when the Americans are trying to build devices that will stop our long range missiles!"

The 1st Chief Directorate of the KGB, Vladimir Kryuchkov was red in the face. Support came from a surprising angle.

The Soviet Defence Minister, Dmitry Yazov, slowly stood. You had to move with deliberation when you started getting to his age.

"Not just our missiles. This other new system, this HANNAH. If they develop it fully, it may also be able to block our short range missiles, artillery rockets and artillery shells. If HANNAH gets to that stage and they deploy it..."

The room contemplated this with an increasing level of concern. If no (or a much reduced number of) strategic weapons could successfully impact the US, and if their artillery effectiveness was also reduced, possibly even to the level of being useless - it was the Defence Minister who stated the conclusion quickly being reached by the others.

"If both of these systems are completed and fully deployed, we would lose a war. If the Americans struck first, they might avoid anything except minor damage. A follow on conventional attack would find little to stop it except troops and armour that would quickly exhaust their local stocks of supplies. Any weapon that can target and destroy a missile, could knock down aircraft and helicopters too".

The Deputy minister of defence, Ivan Tretyak raised a point.

"The whole of NATO would not have these defences though, surely. Would the threat of their allies being reduced to radioactive rubble stop an American first strike from being launched?"

Vladimir, who had calmed down somewhat answered his question.

"Don't you remember what Reagan joked about a few years back - the bombing begins in five minutes? The only countries they would probably care about would be England and West Germany, which is where the vast majority of the US forces are stationed. Which means they would defend those two with the new systems, and possibly just ignore the rest."

He was in turn supported by the Soviet Navy CIC, Admiral Chernavin.

"Agreed. And if the systems were in place and we attempt to launch a first strike, our submarines might have the best chance of striking targets without interception, but their weapons are targeted on cities. We would not be able to target their ICBM sites with enough accuracy to guarantee destruction. The American response in either scenario would be mostly un-degraded. At best, we might take some of their civilian population and infrastructure with us."

"Well. What can we do to stop this from happening?" this last question came from Yury Maksimov, High Command for the Soviet Strategic Rocket Forces.

"They are apparently having some problems with the testing of their new weapon. We have images of a planned test of an experimental, more powerful version of the weapon, where the test site is a crater. Whether this was a result of the actual test system exploding, or whether they have faked an accident, we don't know yet" admitted Vladimir.

"This Cerberus company is launching orbital platform elements soon. The shuttle sabotage slowed down that program significantly. Our Buran test flights are only six months away. Can we sabotage the Cerberus launches too?" asked Yury.

"Nyet. Their on-site security is a nightmare. Rumour has it that even the NSA cannot penetrate Cerberus. We know for a fact that the CIA has tried many times and failed. Most of our information on Cerberus comes from within the US government and military, strangely enough. We could possibly do something during the actual launch, but that might draw suspicion, after their last shuttle exploded" said Vladimir.

"What about indirect sabotage. The fuel? There are limited facilities to produce this, correct? Perhaps a chemical leak or a fire?" suggested Ivan thoughtfully.

Vladimir thought and nodded smiling "A good point, and an acceptable alternate strategy, and we DO have a contingency for such an operation, we could...yes, I will instruct the Washington Rezident to activate the plan. Should be completed within a week or two, with some small fortune it will be in time to halt, or at least limit the Cerberus launches."

"If Buran is successful, I recommend we launch a series of ASAT weapons, ready to take down any Cerberus orbital facility. Obviously only to be used if we have the need. A precaution" stated Dmitry.

"I do not feel the evidence we currently have is enough to recommend the removal of...our main internal issue, HIM. But if this SDI goes beyond a theoretical...30% coverage or effectiveness against a simulated attack, could we use that as an alert, a tripwire? When an internal reorganisation would be required?" suggested Yury, cautiously.

"I agree to 30%, but only if at least one ASAT is in place to degrade any orbital platform. Otherwise, 25%" said Dmitry.

There was agreement all around the room for this counter proposal.

"There will be a new US president soon. Perhaps this one will not be as crazy as the cowboy. Do whatever you can to slow down the Cerberus launches. I will draw up a list of activities to initiate if the tripwire is crossed. I think the COSSACK and RASPUTIN operations should also be activated. The initial stages only, obviously. Agreed?" said Vladimir.

There was agreement around the room again, but more nervous at the operations named as part of this proposal.

"I will make certain that those two are prepared, and go no further at this stage. We cannot afford anything to go wrong with either of them." confirmed Admiral Chernavin.

Vladimir looked at the assembled military leaders of the Soviet Union "I think it best if we all leave now. And remember, this meeting, what was discussed...never happened."

April 1988, Century House, London. Worst kept secret in England.

Charles Jackman sipped appreciatively at his drink. There was something about a good cup of tea, so much more refreshing than that coffee his recent Cerberus employers gulped down by the gallon. And it wasn't even particularly good coffee at that!

Sir Christoper Curwen, current head of the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS, also known as MI6), waited patiently for Charles to finish. Charles had only been back in the country an hour, and this was probably the first decent cuppa he had got his hands on in the last few months.

Charles leaned back with his eyes closed and let out a little sigh of pleasure. Then his eyes snapped back open and looked at Sir Curwen. "Good to see you again Chris. You have no idea how bloody busy I've been, organising this treasure hunt gang that Cerberus has set up. I finished writing up my report on the plane, which I dropped into your in-box pile when I got here. I am guessing you want the highlights?".

Sir Curwen nodded. "I must confess Charles, I was most pleased you agreed to take up this role. Apparently the Yanks have been trying to penetrate Cerberus for some time, with little or no success. From the picture we have built, this Anna girl seems to be pretty close to the inner circle, would that be correct?".

Charles snorted "Pretty close? I would say she was right in there, seeing as she is frequently talking to Harper or Anderson. The talks with Anderson seem to center around security requirements and concerns, Harper I am assuming logistics and funding. And she talks directly to them, not one of the higher management levels."

"Dutch is the same, we were organising an expedition into Egypt, hit some snags with the locals, he gets on the blower to Anderson, next thing we know there are twenty plus armed ninjas or gorillas surrounding the camp and putting the smack down on anything that looked funny in our direction."

Sir Curwen rummaged on his desk and pulled up a note. "Ah yes, that would be why I got a lovely letter from the foreign office, demanding to know what operations we were running in Egypt, and did we have any idea how we were upsetting the current delicate negotiations they were engaged in, blah blah blah. Usual puffed peacock prattle."

Charles rocked happily in his seat. "Got to love screwing with the twats in the FO, even indirectly. This treasure hunt mob is deathly serious though Chris. I mean, I've got six operations underway at the moment, four countries. Each operation has at least one squad of Cerb Sec with it."

Charles picked up his cup and took another sip.

"High level equipment, diplomatic credentials, a couple of big names involved with the groups as well. Everyone on the teams is a wet behind the ears, fresh out of uni rookie, best of the new crop, or an experienced member who has been put on the fringe or was retired due to their piss-poor attitude or controversial theories."

"ANY basic supplies we need, including weapons, local guides. Every person is insured to the hilt, every person is very well paid. Every single one of these ops is costing Cerberus millions up front, and probably more in bribes behind the scenes."

Charles scratched his head, his normally jovial features now set in a far more somber state than usual. "Something that I don't think anyone has picked up on. Do you know the Nautile that the frogs use? And the Mir subs that the Finns built recently for the Soviets?".

Sir Curwen pondered the names briefly. "Are those the deep sea subs? Used for high depth search missions for aircraft black boxes, things like that?"

Charles nodded "yes, just that. Well, Cerberus took delivery of four of them last week. And they have another four being built. Total price, somewhere in the region of one hundred million dollars. First batch, they've been having them built for about eight months apparently. Can you guess why they want them?".

Sir Curwen thought on the possible uses, and made a guess based on something Charles had used to describe his new group. "Looking for sunken treasures possibly?".

Charles nodded slowly, Sir Curwen noticed that Charles had started to twist his hands together, a nervous habit that had cost him quite a bit of money in their friendly card games.

Charles took a deep breath, and continued "that is certainly part of it, and with some reasonable success at locating old treasure ships, would certainly pay for the equipment. Their main goals though are something a bit more unbelievable. They are intending to devote at least one of their new submersibles to an extended investigation into the Atlantis legend..."

Charles took another deep breath. Sir Curwen was starting to get concerned. Charles? Upset?

"It's the other goal that concerns me. Actually, to be perfectly frank, it scares the crap out of me."

Sir Curwen raised an eyebrow at this. Charles was an old hand and pretty unflappable. Confessing fear? "That's not like you at all old boy. What on earth are they also digging for?".

Charles clasped shaking hands tightly together and looked up at Sir Curwen, tightly controlled terror on his face. "The damned fools are actually going to seriously look for R'lyeh. And they want ME to head the team!".

April 1988, Anderson residence, USA.

It was movie weekend again, but this time things were a little different. This time it was Freeman who had requested they all get together, as he had been doing some thinking, and had some very worrying conclusions he needed to cross check.

The little group had settled down to watch Full Metal Jacket, listening to the Marine Senior DI chewing out his new 'maggots' had Anderson and Shepard spilling drinks and tears in their eyes from laughing.

"Glad to see DI's in two hundred years time are just as big a bunch of assholes as their ancestors" chortled Anderson.

Jack was slumped back in his seat, gently stroking Snowball which was again resting on his lap, until he realised what he was doing. "GAH!" he exclaimed, and threw it to Freeman "Will you STOP putting that thing next to me!"

Freeman caught Snowball and slipped her back into his backpack with a smile. "Sorry" he replied to Jack, with a total lack of sincerity. "Okay guys, got a question for all three of you. The big Q fella said you would have long life span right? But he didn't say you couldn't be hurt or killed? Right?"

Shepard, Anderson and Harper all looked at each other. "That would match my understanding Freeman." replied Harper "I know for a fact we have all received minor injuries over the last few years, so we are certainly not invulnerable. Maybe more resistant, and heal quicker, but that's it".

Freeman nodded frantically "Right, right. I know we've talked over a lot of what you guys experienced in the future, the people you worked with, etc. So what happens to the human race in 200 years, when the Soviets blow this house up in thirty minutes, killing all of us?".

Freeman took a deep drink of his beer, watching the others mull this idea over. It was Jack who stated the obvious.

"I can't believe we missed that. If we die, our knowledge dies with us. Humanity will be developing blind again, and isn't going to have a chance. Anything we have managed to create so far will have minimal impact on future development".

Freeman nodded "Ready for the next one? Okay, Jack, tell me the surname of your second in command? Lawson? Yeah easy peasy one. Anderson, the politician you punched? Udina, right. Shepard, the colour of Ashley William's eyes."

Silence.

"Uhhhhhh" started Shepard eloquently "Blue?". Shepard looked at Anderson, who nodded tentatively.

Freeman smiled "Ready to go again? Shepard, head of the Omega Blood Pack? Garm, well done. Anderson, alliance infantry vehicle? The Mako? Good enough. Harper, the system name where Shepard died?"

Silence.

"Amanda. No, Amada." announced Jack after a few seconds of thought.

Anderson held up a hand before Freeman started again. "Look Gordon, this is sort of interesting, but why don't you just cut to the end. Why are you asking us these questions?".

Freeman paused, and nodded. "Okay, just one last question. You guys have this whole intra-net thing going on, information and history and stuff from the future. It's partially where Shepard gets his mad skills. So if you use it search for the planet where Shepard's corpse was recovered from?".

Nothing. The three Cerberus heads frowned at each other.

Freeman said "Annnnnnnd one last question to prove a point - Shepard, where did your ship go down?"

"Alchera. Recovered crew dog tags, placed the memorial."

Freeman shrugged "I wouldn't know, I am guessing the others can confirm. My point - people forget things as time passes. Or things fade, only impressions remain. Assuming you are all still around in 150 or 200 years time, who can say what you still remember? What small, but critical pieces of information you will have forgotten? Information that is not considered of worth to be added to your intra-net?".

Anderson was staring thoughtfully. Harper nodded slowly, mind already racing along as implications, scenarios and solutions to the new issues were all being generated and discarded. Shepard took a long drink on his whisky and rubbed his face

'pretty sure she had blue eyes...' he thought 'but I can't remember. Did I ever know for sure? Have I forgotten since I came back to the past..?'.

Freeman chugged back his beer and belched. "Don't look so gloomy! The first thing you guys need to start doing is writing down the important information. Timelines, places of interest, people of interest, politics. History. Things you found out in the last five or ten years of your future. Everything about the Reapers and all of that. Protheans, Collectors. Just get it down, I can read it, check it against each other, ask questions. Build up some sort of reference doc, yeah? Back in a sec".

Freeman walked quickly to the kitchen and cracked another cold beer, returned and flopped back down "Shepard, I think you are the most likely to know. What big name games did you guys have in the future? You know, computer games, entertainment ones?"

Shepard spread his hands open "I've got no idea, I never had the time for that sort of stuff".

Anderson coughed "I, uh, I may have spent a bit of time playing games. There was one called Alliance Corsair, where you were sent on missions for the Alliance into the Terminus systems. Squad based combat, damned realistic. Some of the missions were based of actual alliance operations, which is why I was checking them out. Damned popular too".

Everyone turned their heads to look at Jack.

"Seriously? You think the head of Cerberus, a major pro-human paramilitary and terrorist organisation, had time or inclination to play games? Would you three kindly quit with the staring?".

The triple stare continued.

"Okay, Fine! I dabbled on Galaxy of Fantasy for a bit."

Shepard snickered "I think Tali mentioned that game once. What level and class were you?"

Jack looked off to one side and muttered "Level 97 Asari Blade Dancer".

Anderson spoke in a booming voice "Ah yes, I played Galaxy of Fantasy". Paused and then air-quoted "for a bit". Pause. "We have dismissed these claims".

Jack threw an annoyed look to Anderson "I really didn't deserve to be compared to Sparatus." Shepard nodded "That was pretty harsh. But funny!".

Freeman waved his beer bottle at the trio "see, where I came from, or should I say WHEN I came from, computer games and games consoles was a big thing, and I mean multi-billion dollar industry level of big thing. That Galaxy of Fantasy thing sounds a hell of a lot like something called World of Warcraft that we used to have."

Freeman sat there and nodded at the others, who looked at each other and then back at Freeman.

"I think you may have had another internal conversation that you failed to include us in" whispered Shepard to him.

"What, seriously? But it was awesome, and now I have to do it again? Fine. You guys make your future history reference guide thing, and I'll write down some stuff that I remember from my time. We have the Miranda system coming out, which beats the snot out of everything else on the market, but there is nothing to take advantage of it. No decent games."

"So, we start a games company. I remember a whole bunch of the best companies and people. We can check what is around in this world, and pull them into our company, start knocking out some small, cheap games that fully use the Miranda. Hell, grab some of the Amiga and Atari developers, they will probably work out how to squeeze the system the best, maybe remake some of their games onto Miranda, ready for Christmas."

"Then, at some point in the future, you know, when the hardware and software is ready. When have all the information and story all plotted out. We could turn your future universe into a game, or series of games. Make it big, let people explore, let them SEE the aliens out there, this whole biotics shit, the Citadel, Quarians, the mystery of the Geth, Prothean ruins and even older fragments of prior cycle extinctions - have the information buried there, layer after layer."

Freeman scratched his face "Personally I would DEFINITELY end the series with the Reapers and the Crucible thing. Don't have Q though, change names and faces of course so they don't link it back to you guys. We give them the same three choices Shepard had, have them all end the same, something about 'HAR HAR you fell into the Reaper sucker trap, fuck you moron'."

Freeman was warming up to the idea "But if they played the full series, like ten games, decisions they made would give them a chance right? Enough ships, troops, R&D, for a straight fight. Or maybe a secret path, where a bunch of ark ships are made, similar to what the Protheans tried, yeah, except mobile bunkers in space, hiding away until the galaxy has been wiped clean again...?".

Jack was looking at Freeman with a horrified expression on his face, Anderson and Shepard seemed conflicted.

"Freeman, are you totally out of your mind? Telling everyone what is out there over a hundred years before they actually meet them? That's insane!".

Anderson plopped his feet up on the edge of the table. "So...say we did that. Created this whole bunch of games, in twenty years time. what does it gain us?".

Freeman looked at him shocked "You don't get it? Okay, look. Games like that in my future were bought and played by millions. Tens of millions. The information in them is recorded, argued over, analysed to death. A perfect way to pre-educate people about what is out there. Okay, forget the Reaperverse story for now. How about this?"

"Put together space strategy games with weapon systems you are designing, first person shooter games based on expected future battles. Have them tested by ten million ground commanders, a million admirals. Make the people help you design their future military infrastructure and strategies - and pay you for it!".

Shepard was nodding "I see where you are coming from. The whole Reaperverse thing is something for the future obviously, but starting recording what we remember, keeping them in secure locations and making key people aware of it, definitely in favour of that. Starting a game company, why not?"

Anderson was also nodding "Jack, I think should you really consider this as a method of exposing some of the future generations to the truth of the future. What do you think?".

"What do I think? You know, when I woke up this morning, my life was complicated. Now, it's even more complicated. I hate you Freeman."

"Awwww...I wub you too Jack. And so does Snowball".

April 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas, USA.

"Seriously? The Head of DARPA has requested a meeting with all three of us, a totally secure and private meeting, where we possibly will be offered the opportunity for multi-billion dollar projects. And Shepard turns up looking like he slept in a field, and Anderson...would wearing a suit have killed you? What exactly is it with you and combat fatigues?

Shepard yawned "was working until 5, slept in the car on the way over. Problem with a new weapon system Freeman and Dan wanted me to put together" he looked at his left hand and wiggled his slightly blackened fingers "And apparently electrical burns sting like hell".

Anderson shrugged "I'm heading to join some of the latest SA recruits on an assault training mission straight after this. Start getting them over the whole 'but ya BLICK?!' attitude. Besides, Head of DARPA or not, Mr Duncan spent twenty years in the Navy. I doubt he cares if I meet him in a suit, or fatigues."

There was a knock on the door and it opened "Mr Harper? Mr Duncan for his meeting." The DARPA Director walked into the room, and the door softly clicked shut behind him. Jack stepped forward, holding out his hand, and introductions were made.

Mr Duncan cast an eye over the room. "As I requested Mr Harper, I need this room totally secure before I begin. Are we being visually recorded? Can you ensure the room is locked from this side? I also have a white noise generator I would like to activate, if there are no objections?"

Once the room had been confirmed as secured from any external interference or recording, Mr Duncan opened his briefcase, revealing a small stack of report files.

"Mr Harper, Mr Shepard, Mr Anderson. Your activities, or should I say, the activities of Cerberus have been noticed in many different areas and levels throughout the US, and also internationally."

"There are concerns that Cerberus is accumulating a lot of potential power and influence. There are concerns on the other side of the Iron Curtain that Cerberus is going to make the US secure against nuclear attack. And that they have a potentially shrinking window of opportunity to do something about it."

"But that isn't why I am here. Information has been brought to my attention that you have been recently looking into an incident near Carswell. I need to ask the question - why?".

Silence stretched throughout the room. Jack was puzzled. This was absolutely NOT what he had been expecting to hear. Why the question about Carswell? It wasn't as though it was classified, even though they were pretty sure it related to a...Hunter...incident.

DARPA. Advance Research Projects. Energy weapons. Cloaking. Space travel.

Jack drummed his fingers on the table and glanced left and right to make sure the other two were going to keep quiet.

"Well Robert, there is a simple answer there. We were aiming to confirm if there had been any recent incidents of Predators on US soil, in particular any that were close to our own facilities" calmly stated Jack.

Mr Duncan twitched at the word "Predator". "I see. Could you...clarify what you mean there Jack. I need to be 100% sure I understand".

Jack looked him in the eye. "Oh you know. Predators. Quite Majestic to behold I believe - if they ever showed themselves, obviously. Normally all you get to see is red light beams and fireworks".

Mr Duncan looked slightly sick as he registered what Jack was saying, or rather, implying. 'They know. But how much?'.

"Well. That's, ummm. That's good. I represent a small group who have a similar interest and concern. I have some information which I was hoping to share, in the interest of National Security. You understand?".

Jack nodded "I understand Robert, and Cerberus is always willing to help in matters of National Security. So, why don't we cut the crap?".

Mr Duncan jerked back as Jack continued "You work for Majestic, also known as MJ12. You have had proof of the Predator threat for over fifty years now, stored either at Area 51 or Vandenberg AFB. You've managed to keep it covered up, but it's getting more difficult."

"The original members have all died, your support has been worn to nothing. You don't know who you can trust, who you can bring into your little group anymore. Your ability to control the information is nearly gone. And now you want Cerberus to help. How am I doing?".

Mr Duncan could feel his heart starting to race 'What the HELL?! Have they penetrated us somehow?' "That's quite the claim Jack. Pretty crazy stuff. Ending up in a rubber room stuff really." said Mr Duncan, stalling for time.

Anderson made a pointed look at his watch. Shepard yawned again and cracked his neck. Jack simply smirked and nodded to the briefcase contents.

"Robert, save us all from the dancing around. Show us what you came here with."

Mr Duncan mentally struggled, realising he had totally lost control of the meeting, before slumping in resignation.

"Okay Jack. Yes, pretty much everything you said has an element of truth. Here. One copy of each document for each of you. I need them back, obviously. First, the Truman Order, which gives us our presidential authority, and the scope of our mission."

After a few minutes, the documents were returned.

"Next, the real Roswell report. The fragments of a Predator vessel were found, along with the partial remains of three Predators. And before you ask, they are currently held at Area 51, and no, you can't see them. Not yet at least."

After a while, the documents were returned again.

"The final report, is the unaltered version of Carswell. Single Predator, took out the entire convoy, one by one. Melee only. And yes, they skinned and mutilated the guards, we found them hanging from street lights."

Anderson looked at the report, mentally comparing the details to what Dutch had reported. Very, very similar.

"All finished? Good. Now, can you confirm the incident in Athens last year was a Predator, and Cerberus teams engaged it?".

Jack nodded and indicated Anderson, who relayed details of the mission. Mr Duncan listened, and then massaged his forehead.

"You've encountered one before? Do you know what happens when you pin one down, injure it enough to capture it?".

The three Cerberus heads slowly shook their heads.

Mr Duncan sighed. "They have a nifty device on their person, which allows them to remotely detonate their ship. To give you an idea, the last nuclear test in Kazakhstan? Wasn't a Soviet nuclear test. It was a Predator ship that was preventing itself from being captured. Have a little think about that".

"Got that firm in your heads? Now extrapolate. How would NATO have reacted if Athens had been wiped out with a nuclear explosion? Can we say World War FUCKING THREE?".

Mr Duncan nodded. "We guessed afterward that you didn't know, we really didn't think you would have been stupid enough to have mounted such an operation if you did, not in an urban area at least."

"It's one of the reasons we HAD to get in touch, you had no idea how close you came to sparking a nuclear holocaust. And just because we dodged the bullet once, doesn't mean we would be so lucky the next time."

Mr Duncan had no idea the horror the Cerberus heads were realising was only partially due to the potential sparking of WWW3. They were also realising the rest of the galaxy would have been doomed too.

Fuck.

Anderson looked at Shepard, who looked at Jack and coughed "XCOM" into his fist.

Jack stared at Shepard and mentally worked out what he was meaning. After what they had read though, and after what Mr Duncan had revealed, there really wasn't any other choice. He nodded to Shepard and turned back to Mr Duncan.

"You are correct Robert, we had absolutely no idea the Predator had such an alarming defence mechanism. Perhaps I could share some of the planning and infrastructure we have been putting in place, and Cerberus and Majestic can pool our resources?"

"It's a new organisation we are adding under Cerberus Security. It is going to be based from the new Texas site, specifically to work against the Predator threat, and anything else that is hostile alien in nature."

Jack sighed.

"It's working title, against my personal objections, is XCOM".


	19. 19 - Vigilo Confido?

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - Thanks all for the ME Space Warfare feedback, the Cerberus trio will plan accordingly. A shout out to guest1632, as you pretty much nailed everything on the head. Shame the PM function was not enabled.

To clarify for everyone, the XCOM name and concept is being used, but an XCOM crossover is NOT what this is about - no Sectoids, Mutons, etc.

Designing combat mech platforms based on Terminator chassis models is not a crossover.  
Having Capital class ships that look suspiciously like Star Destroyers is not a crossover.  
Using a folding space travel system such as a guild liner is not a crossover.  
Carriers based on the 'The Bucket' from BSG2004 is also not a crossover (and so say we all!).  
Designing a Warp Drive similar to Star Trek is not a crossover. Honest.  
Cthulhu? Go and read the trivia part of the Reaper entry in the ME Wiki. NOT a crossover.

Most of these are instead the outright theft and adaptation of concepts, that our Trio might then apply to the ME Universe.

The only crossovers are the Predators (see chapter below for more details on how they fit in the ME universe), and our favourite unhinged scientist, Dr Freeman. If a concept is tried and doesn't work, it won't be adapted. Remember, we are fighting for the survival of the human race here. Deus Ex Machina cop-outs are NOT going to be happening. Fuck the Star Child.

Oh, and I burnt the fingers on my right hand, made typing painful, hence the delay on the chapter. That is all. :o)

Chapter 19 - Vigilo Confido?

May 1988, PEPCON plant, Nevada, USA.

The fire started small.

The PEPCON Plant was one of only two production facilities in the US for ammonium perchlorate, which is used in solid propellant for rocket boosters, AP was used for both the military and civilian versions of rocket boosters. The NASA and US Military space rockets used it. ICBM's used it. The Space shuttle program used it.

The investigation into the Challenger disaster had required the shut down of the space shuttle program, until any issues could be identified and addressed. But that didn't stop the need for AP, which was still being produced and even stockpiled in readiness for the reactivation.

The other facility that produced AP was also in Nevada. In fact, it was less than two miles away from the PEPCON plant.

In retrospect, this would be shown to be a very BAD idea.

The second plant, owned by Kerr-McGee, was also in full production, building up stockpiles to take advantage of the rumoured soon to be reactivated shuttle program, but also to build up additional stockpiles, specifically for the Cerberus launches.

Jack Harper had told Kerr-McGee (in confidence of course) that the initial Cerberus launches would be proof of concept, and over the next few years he expected them to increase at least ten fold in numbers. And he was looking at K-M as the primary supplier.

The PEPCON plant was currently sitting on a mountain of nearly 6000 tonnes of AP. It's competitor, literally across the road, was sitting on a number of smaller mountains, which totaled nearly 3000 tonnes. Between them, tens of thousands of barrels of AP were being stored on each site.

The fire at the PEPCON plant was spotted quickly, and on-site staff moved into action to extinguish it. The fire was resisting attempts though. The barrel that had initially been spotted to be alight had been extinguished twice, and reignited each time. The fire had heated the nearby wall and ceiling enough that they too were starting to smolder.

At this point, if anyone in the area had survived to report it, they would have explained they heard a small explosive 'crack' underneath the barrel that refused to be extinguished. This was in fact the fracturing of the thirty year old high pressure natural gas line that ran directly under the PEPCON facility.

The resultant fireball as this new release of gas reached the already strong fire, incinerated every single member of the on-site fire team that was attempting to control the blaze. And as more gas was sucked into the fireball, it expanded, wider and wider.

At this point, PEPCON employee Roy Westerfield made the best decision of his career. The fire was under control up until the second he saw the fireball. He immediately slammed his hand on the evacuation klaxon button, and activated the tannoy system.

"This is Roy Westerfield - EVACUATE NOW. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. EVACUATE NOW. MINIMUM SAFE DISTANCE THREE MILES. GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!". The air-raid sirens wailing pretty much got the hint across to the rest of the staff, hundreds fled to their vehicles.

The fire was now racing towards the main storage facilities for the stockpiled AP. The first explosion was minor, but was still sufficient to demolish the first storage shed it happened inside. It acted as a useful spur for anyone who was lagging.

Many people were able to reach the car park and jumped into any vehicle that was moving, it was sheer luck that no cars collided or anyone was run over. Roy Westerfield was now on the phone to 9-1-1, trying to impress the scope of the emerging disaster on the operator. He had already convinced them to send every nearby firefighter unit, and that the evacuation of everyone within several miles would also be needed.

He didn't really need too say any more, as everyone in a 20 mile radius knew about the disaster within the next 60 seconds.

The combination of an ever expanding lake of burning natural gas, nearby welding tanks ready for planned work, and of course the plastic AP barrels themselves was an arsonist's wet dream. The burning lake ignited the nearest drums, causing them to explode, one after another. Fragments from these pierced the welding tanks, adding high pressure jets of heat capable of melting metal. These fed back into AP storage barrels, resulting in even more explosions.

The runaway explosions reached the main storage area within a minute. The resultant explosion, the largest one that would be experienced by the PEPCON plant, registered as a 4.1 on the Richter scale, and was estimated to be the equivalent range of a 2KT - 2.5KT tactical nuclear weapon.

The shock wave shattered windows, smashed doors and window frames in buildings over ten miles away. Cars on roads for miles were side slammed into oncoming lanes, and in the worst single loss of life event, a landing Boeing-737 was slammed into the tarmac by the pressure wave, causing it to snap in two and fires to erupt. Survivors were few.

Within just a few miles of the facility, the wave of destruction was much, much worse. Nearby residential areas were hit, power lines and phone lines were smashed to the ground. A number of vehicles in the area, including those of evacuating workers, were flipped over onto their side or roof. Several vehicles literally exploded, including one gasoline tanker.

The explosion spewed material for literally miles in every direction. In a scene worthy of the worst Hollywood thrillers, several dozen of the hundreds, possibly thousands of flaming barrels that were catapulted into the air, headed in the direction of the Kerr-McGee facility, and landed scattered throughout the storage areas of that complex.

Already stunned and injured from the blast and shock wave, the bleeding and battered staff at the K-M facility, flinching from the continued explosions from just 1.5 miles away, took a little while to realise that some of the smoke they were seeing was actually coming from within their own storage areas.

Most of the K-M staff reacted by evacuating voluntarily within seconds. At least one member of the facility was able to contact 9-1-1 and warn them that the K-M facility was under risk of explosions too, due to damage from the PEPCON explosion. Presumably they attempted to then evacuate also.

The K-M complex found itself being ripped apart within minutes. Their storage areas were designed differently to PEPCON, which used a more central system, K-M preferred a more dispersed method, with balanced loading of all storage facilities, to minimise the danger and impact of a fire reaching one of the storage areas.

Nobody had planned on what would happen if three areas were subsequently exploding, with none of the fire-prevention / storage securing lock downs being activated.

The resulting explosions were each less than 0.5KT in size, but they still registered as a 3.0 on the Richter scale. The initial three explosions were followed only five or ten moments later by three more, as the remaining storage areas detonated.

Within an hour of the fire initially starting, the only parts left of the two AP production facilities that were not craters, were burning or flattened ruins. The entire surrounding area had multiple fires, and several smaller secondary explosions from impacted gas mains and cars. Screaming and bleeding people stumbled through the area, as emergency services attempted to respond to a flood of calls.

The entire Las Vegas Valley looked as though it had been transformed into a war-zone. The shock wave had even impacted Vegas itself, cracked windows and minor car and pedestrian accidents made thousands initially think there had been an earthquake.

The valley held hundreds of dead, thousands were injured, the infrastructure and property damage costs in the hundreds of millions, and the chances of domestic AP production continuing on a large scale anytime in the near future, effectively now set to zero.

The cause of the initial fire would never be successfully determined.

May 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas.

The atmosphere within the conference room was tense. This was to be the fourth meeting with their Majestic contact in as many weeks. In this time, Cerberus had identified a number of facts.

The recovered fragments of the Hunter craft in Area 51 were from a ship yes, but the size of that ship was small - it would be hard pushed to hold a single Cerberus squad. Which meant there was a very high probability that it did not have the power supply, engine design and environmental supplies to achieve more than local system travel.

Which meant either it was from a larger vessel, a carrier - or was from a physical base. This particular wreckage was recovered four decades ago, but the Hunter vessels that had been spotted since were unchanged, all the same class and appearance.

More oval than saucer in shape, with identifiable thrust nozzles to the rear. They were still invisible to current detection systems. The original crash was thought to be the result of an internal malfunction.

The Majestic organisation apparently had a small number of teams available, which were following a similar pattern to Cerberus, though were focused on attempts to stun and capture the Hunter, not kill. They were pre-positioned into areas that met Hunter 'Big Game' conditions.

Apparently any active war-zone was discarded - any attempts to mobilise large scale forces to deal with a Hunter resulted in an abort, and the Hunter left the area.

That was reassuring in a way, the Hunters were obviously not interested in large scale conflict, preferring to remain hidden whilst they hunted.

It wasn't an invasion as such then. Jack was guessing that Humanity was just one of probably several lower tech races that were being actively used as practice by the Hunters, though he had no evidence of that, just a gut feeling.

Conventional weapons could hurt them, even primitive weapons such as spears and clubs could inflict injury. This tied in with legends and myths from around the world that had been linked as potential Hunter encounters. Though the term 'Demon' was definitely the most popular label applied to them.

The problem that Majestic was encountering was finding them (the location area a Hunter was active within), and then SEEING them. Majestic had tried several variations of schemes to inhibit the Hunter's vision or environment, to maneouver it into a trap, with limited success.

No live specimen had been captured by Majestic, and as far as they knew, no other country had managed to capture a live specimen. They couldn't push too hard - especially in urban areas - due to the whole self destruct strategy.

The revelation that not only Russia, but also Japan had active organisations that were fighting the Hunters was welcome. It would make Jack's new proposal for Majestic a lot easier. It also meant the adjustment accordingly of The Myth Team's long list of target locations for investigation.

The list was being thankfully shortened, no point chasing down details on the Hunters that Majestic and other countries were aware of, particularly from sites they had already searched and secured. The Hunter investigators on the Myth Team were now focusing on trying to identify areas that had repeat visits, narrowing the locations Cerberus and Majestic could focus on for another capture attempt.

Once Robert Duncan, Head of DARPA, had arrived and was settled in his usual seat and the room was secured, the discussions began. Jack jumped straight in before Robert could even open his mouth.

"No. We discussed the proposal for Shepard to be added to Majestic as the twelfth seat, and we cannot accept it. John has far too much work already, and he would be wasting his already sparse free time on Majestic meetings, time that would be better spent at R&D. But I do have a counter proposal, which I am positive will work better."

Robert nodded slowly "You want the seat yourself, and as Shepard is already in the know, he would be available if we need him?"

Jack smiled and stabbed a pen in Robert's direction.

"Exactly that" confirmed Jack "Plus, it makes more sense if I am directly involved as part of MJ12, allowing me to allocate Cerberus resources to assist in areas that Shepard might not have an interest in. To be frank, if you can't build it or blow it up, he tends to get a bit lost".

Shepard internally flinched at the less than flattering description, but it had been agreed that he would be 'dumbed down' in the eyes of Majestic. A great engineer and leader, but not someone you wanted at a decision making level.

Anderson chipped in "It also means that Jack can directly assign Cerberus Security teams to projected Hunter...I mean, Predator locations. We have at least five teams currently unassigned and available for deployment just at this point."

He continued "With additional intelligence on where they need to be committed and how many, we will train up more units accordingly. Also, as I brought up last sessions, it would help both groups immensely if at least one of the MJ12 teams that had Predator experience could visit Cerberus, to share knowledge, discuss tactics and weapons?""

Robert nodded "Oh yes, it was discussed again and preparations are being made for the right team to be rotated off duty so it can be made available to Cerberus".

There was no chance Robert was going to admit the MJ12 operation only had three active CONUS teams at this point, with a fourth team stationed in Europe at the moment, who covered the international side.

Robert checked his notes "Shepard, we have an approval for you to visit Area-51 in June, we do however need to confirm the absolute necessity of your request to have a second person with you. This Dr Freeman is a known wildcard and we have concerns over his ability to retain confidentiality."

Shepard nodded. "He's needed. And as for confidentiality, he works for Cerberus. He knows how to keep his mouth closed".

Robert looked as though he wanted to argue the point further, Jack however weighed in with "I have absolute confidence in both Shepard and Freeman. Freeman is already aware of the Predator threat, and is the only person other than Shepard to have performed technical analysis on recovered materials".

Anderson did raise a good point "June might not be the best time. The first stage of Freedom is launching in June, obviously there is a lot of focus on the event. The R&D teams are going to be needed as support for any last second problems."

"From a security perspective, we need to stick with the support teams we know. After that disaster down in Las Vegas, there is no way anyone gets near our launch without verification in triplicate."

Robert nodded thoughtfully "Totally understand the caution. We are leaning towards PEPCON being an accident, not sabotage, but the timing was horrific for our space program. Cerberus is going to have the only large scale fuel stockpile available for at least the next six months. Not sure if the shuttle is going to be delayed for much longer, but we have a scheduled launch for September from Vandenberg."

He looked conflicted before eventually facing the trio and tentatively asked "Are you aware of the ECHELON program?".

Shepard, Anderson and Harper all looked blank for a few seconds, then Shepard blurted "Oh, you mean the communications monitoring?".

Robert looked pained, but nodded "Blunt, but yes, that is a reasonable short summary. There have been some glitches recently, so we want to put two new satellites into orbit. The original TITAN launches were going to be September, but there is no way they are going to be able to get fuel stocks without eating into what is assigned for strategic uses."

Robert paused and then continued hopefully "Unless you have around a thousand tonnes you can spare...? We can't demand your stocks, as they are already assigned for use by SDI, which has a higher launch priority".

Shepard slowly nodded "Actually I think we can. We need about three thousand tonnes at an absolute minimum for our first six launches, and have a stock of five thousand. Even supplying your Titan launches will leave us a big enough margin for errors or spillage losses."

Robert's expression became one of relief. "You just made a bunch of people a lot happier. I'll talk to the council about your proposal Jack, but I really don't see any issues with it. I'll contact you next week with the confirmation, and you will receive an official supply request for the launches. David, the Area-51 access will be revised and the approved forms should be with you in a couple of weeks. Gentleman, a pleasure."

Once Robert had been escorted from the premises, the trio returned to the conference room. Anderson called a security team and they waited as the team completed a quick sweep to ensure no little presents had been left behind by Robert. Just in case.

Once they were alone again, Jack started the ball rolling.

"We absolutely need Freeman involved. Once I am officially a member of Majestic, I want Shepard and Freeman to check what they have available for us to use within Area 51. The new Texas facility is progressing well, I expect the XCOM..."

He paused, mulling it over, and sighed in resignation. That damned temporary project label was fast becoming the real one.

"The XCOM facility to be ready and operational for the start of 89. Research, Storage and Barracks facilities underground. Local airstrip and hangers above ground. Secure site. Not sure about containment facility. Private aircraft to transport teams to other local airstrips, everything handled covertly."

"We make XCOM the new Majestic focus, a showcase for additional facilities to enable fast response to Hunter, Predator, whatever you want to call them, locations. "We need to focus all Predator related research into the new facility. Doing anything in the current facilities is too risky, even if you have made some progress."

"Which reminds me - Freeman apparently found some interesting things in the blood sample we had, and has made a devils brew from a combination of it and his own blood - he's looking for some poor bastard to inject it into and see what happens. If you see him looking at you and holding a Jet Injector, walk away. Quickly."

"Shepard, you and Freeman really need to find a way for us to see these bastards, for now I am thinking you are both going to be pulled onto the same team. Pick anyone else you need, this has to be the number one priority. Once we can see them, and their ships, we can really start hunting them. Anderson, talk to Dutch and Jones. I want another dozen teams picked out and trained up. I want us to swamp Majestic in Cerberus manpower."

"Now, I believe the reason we never knew about these things in the future is because they specialise in hiding. Maybe the Reapers found them and wiped them out, maybe they escaped notice. I don't know and I don't really care."

Jack paused for a few seconds, mentally checking if there was a reference on his Intra-net. Nothing.

"They weren't around in the future, we have to assume we won't see them again this time around. I am also guessing they stopped visiting Earth at some point, probably when detection equipment became advanced enough to see them. If they turn up in 200 years time, well, we can beat the shit out of them again. Agreed?".

Shepard nodded.

Anderson frowned and added "What about the existing evidence about these aliens though, things that the US and USSR already have, Maybe Japan as well? And anything additional that might have been recovered before the Predators stopped hunting here? Does that mean that evidence still existed in 200 years time and no-one knew? And there was there a Majestic group operating when the Reapers attacked?".

They pondered this. Shepard spoke "The Systems alliance manifesto would have made Majestic irrelevant. Instead of protecting just America, it protected the entire world, and then the entire system. As for Predator artifacts or technology, well - it took us 150 years from now to just get to the point of having settlements on the Moon, and Mars."

"If there was anything useful available, I think it would have been incorporated into our tech base, and we certainly didn't have anything Predator level advanced."

"Think about it" offered Shepard "Mars, 14 light minutes away, in 150 years we have managed a establish a long term settlement there. Then a few years after the Mars cache is found, we have three  
colony worlds in other systems. No, if anything advanced had survived from the Predator attacks, we would have been a lot further along in our local expansion at least".

Jack nodded agreement. "I've been pondering the overall issue of expansion and building up of the fleet needed to face the Reapers. We need Humanity to be, shall we say, more wary of what is out there than it was previously."

"I am talking paranoid, as a race. Maybe not xenophobic, but ready and armed to drop the hammer on anything that looks at us funny. I am pretty comfortable with Xenophobic if this is what it actually takes. I came up with what I believe is the best method."

"We build up a number of XCOM facilities, possibly in Russia and Japan too. We will need the equipment to detect and attack their craft, and the ground teams will need to be able to take on Predators, possibly in groups if they recovered three from one craft in 1947. Then we launch an attack on every detected Predator, possibly for several years to get them off this planet. Every time a new craft or predator is detected, we drop XCOM on their head, HARD."

Anderson looked sour "You are talking a global fight, some time in the next few, maybe ten years, against aliens that have a habit of detonating their ships if pinned, resulting in explosions that are big enough to register as nuclear tests. Possibly in cities such as New York. Or Paris. Or Moscow. Death tolls in the thousands, if not millions, right?".

Shepard looked horrified as he realised what Jack was aiming at "You want humanity on a war footing for 200 years! You want us ready to defend ourselves as we have already been attacked! Jack, that's fucked up, there has to be a better way, surely?".

Jack shook his head slowly. "When we start showing the world the evidence that these things have been hunting us for hundreds, thousands of years already, and are STILL hunting us, the human race as a whole will be pissed, angry and scared."

"Once we win the war to kick them off the planet - and we WILL win, then we can push to secure our local system. And then we push to hunt them down. We can't hide - they know where we are. We could focus on just bunkering down, but who knows what they are going to come back with.  
They could wipe us out today - Space combat 101, right?"

Anderson nodded "The person at the bottom of the gravity well, losses. If they are serious, they just need to drop a couple of big rocks on the planet, and we go the same way as the dinosaurs."

Shepard looked like he wanted to argue more, but was obviously fighting his gut reaction to the proposal to kill probably thousands at least, maybe millions of people, against his intellectual knowledge of saving billions, if not trillions of people across the galaxy in the future.

"Intellectually it's a good plan, as long as we don't trigger WWW3, I can see that. But Jesus Jack. You may have changed somewhat on the surface, but at heart you are still a fucking monster." said Shepard through gritted teeth.

Anderson nodded, with a grim look on his face "at the least we are going to need deep roots in the Soviet Union before you activate this operation, something to stop the missiles flying. Get everything in place, and then brief the right world leaders. But yeah. It'll work. Make sure to add it to the notes you are writing for Freeman. Just in case."

Jack seemed happy. "Good. Anderson, get everything into place for Clean Slate, consider this your official activation. By the end of the year, I want the Colombian drug trade fully in our hands, and those profits going to Cerberus. Step up operations in South Africa. I want that platinum to keep flowing as long as possible."

"I know you are getting short of manpower. Longer term solution, the Soviets have started pulling troops out of Afghanistan. If the old timeline is maintained we are 18 months away from the Berlin Wall coming down, and less than 4 years away from the collapse of the USSR. You can start recruiting an ex-Soviet force of veterans, maybe even now."

"Short term, once Clean Slate is completed, you can free up units from Colombia. Hell, in few months you can deploy the HSF to South Africa. The Boer's will get a kick out of that. I assume the K-219 recovery using the DSV was successful?"

Anderson tilted his hand back and forth "So-so. Someone had already been there, but yes, we were able to retrieve four of the missiles. You sure you want to go ahead with this?".

Jack nodded "Absolutely. Shepard can work out the details, but I want a nuclear depth charge on board with Jackman's team before they leave. IF they find something like a Reaper or Leviathan on this planet, I want it GONE."

June 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas.

"Jobs and his team are willing to join the program. They ran everything they could under the new version of Windows. The Cerberus hardware did everything it was advertised to. Miranda is still light years ahead." reported Dr Ellis over the phone.

"Good, good, and the game side of the proposal? Has there been any progress?" queried Jack watching the TV, where there was a live feed of the first ever launch by a private company - Cerberus. He had refused all interviews, leaving that to a PR head, who had a bulletin point talking list.

"Well I am not sure what you mean by progress. We have bought a number of small game designers for what seems to be far too much money. Most of these I have never heard of, at least one of them works on 16-bit machines like the Amiga, so not sure how much value they will add. There were a couple of companies that I have heard of, and actually have played their games." Dr Ellis informed Jack.

"Hmmm, really? What companies?" mused Jack.

"Oh, the list goes on and and, but they include Bullfrog. The Bitmap Brothers. Blue Sky Productions. New World Computing and Origin Systems...I could go on and on and on but I won't. You could buy another TITAN for what we are paying for these people."

"A-huh" muttered Jack.

"They have all signed NDA's and have been issued several versions of Miranda each, with instructions to put together some new games that use the system in the next 3 or 4 months, and test out some of their existing games to make sure they work as expected, putting together some sort of bumper game packs with Miranda, for release in late Autumn. I mean Fall. No idea what we will end up with. Could be total rubbish I suppose. Sorry, I mean garbage".

"Mmmmmm..." acknowledged Jack, focused on the TV screen.

"I've also taken to spiking Dan's lunchtime snacks with a strong laxative, and then locking all the toilet doors. Plus, I've been fiddling my expenses for the last six months, and I can now comfortably retire for the rest of my life, due to you signing off on the purchase of my personal island. Oh, and Steve Jobs says you are an useless wanker".

"We say tosser, not wanker, but nice try. I apologise if I sound a little distracted, you do actually know what I'm watching, don't you? The first Cerberus launch, ignition in thirty seconds?" queried Jack.

"Oh buggering bollocks is that today? I did wonder where everyone was! Right, I'll be off then, guess the conference room is a good place to start, see if there is standing room..." Dr Ellis hung up quickly.

"Too late..." murmured Jack, watching engines fire on their first step of dragging humanity kicking and screaming into space, under the guiding hand of Cerberus. Higher and higher it flew, until all announcements for a successful launch were completed. Jack nodded thoughtfully. Time to start awarding some bonuses. So much to do, so very little time...

July 1988, Central Colombia.

Working hand in hand with a major drug cartel made smuggling a lot easier than it would otherwise have been. Unusually though, this was the first time Cerberus had used the connection to smuggle items INTO the country. The application of bribes, threats, promises, drugs and in a few cases, a knife or bullet had smoothed the way. By early July all of the reinforced Cerberus forces were in country.

The only member of the Cartel who was fully aware of the storm that was coming was 'El Mexicano', who had (as promised) funded the previous operations earlier in the year, and had agreed to the deployment of the Cerberus Heavy Strike Force.

Whilst he was not happy at the hundreds of millions of additional dollars it was costing (and that he had paid earlier in the year to purchase HSF equipment), he was definitely ecstatic after being given a brief tour of some elements of the HSF.

Captain Andre Diedericks had been placed in charge of the overall operation. This had led to his promotion to Colonel, to avoid any confusion on who was in command when MAS elements were brought in for support.

The MAS commanders of the supporting forces were pulled to one side and had it explained to them, in small words, what the Cerberus rules of engagement were, and what the resulting response would be against anyone who breached the ROE, and what would happen to the MAS commanding officer.

Captain, now Colonel, "Orders" Diedericks already had a reputation with both MAS and FARC, which meant three of the four commanders quickly agreed to the conditions, one who had worked with him previously with a small smile on his lips.

The fourth quickly displayed the well know Latin American male pride, his disagreement was shown with numerous insults, threats, and finally spittle, all of which was launched in the direction of Andre.

Colonel Diedericks, a trail of spit rolling down his face, expressed his disagreement with the MAS commander by drawing his sidearm and executing him on the spot, showing the same level of emotion as you would when killing a cockroach.

Two of the remaining MAS commanders quickly exited the command post, body language showing shock and fear, the third however lingered slightly until his companions had left. Then he turned to face Colonel Diedericks and quietly said "whatever you need Colonel, my men are yours. After all, Orders are Orders, yes?". After Diedericks gave him a cold nod, the MAS commander threw him a salute, and left the CP.

Colonel Diedericks was left to ponder this latest development, and resolved to update his operational plan. It appeared that at least SOME of the MAS forces would have to be used more...carefully.. in the upcoming operation.

The operation started in the first week of June, with small squad level actions in the Department (state/province) of Meta.

Information gathered over the last five months from the other attacks on FARC had identified the department as a major FARC stronghold. The various FARC units (known as fronts) in the department varied in size, anywhere from 50 to 500 each. Estimation was a total of 1500 active FARC combat troops, scattered throughout the department.

A total of ten Cerberus strike teams had moved into the area, performing pinprick strikes on suspected FARC camps. A sniper attack on a sentry here, an ambush of a patrol there. Within a few days, FARC knew they were under attack and were responding accordingly. A cat and mouse game began, with ambushes and snipers set in place to catch Cerberus squads, and they worked. Cerberus troops started getting injured and killed.

Casualties increased daily for both sides, until an Cerberus squad was hit by either an entire front, or a chunk of one of the larger fronts. There were no survivors. Knowing full well what awaited them if FARC took them prisoner, the last two wounded members of the squad made sure they were not take alive.

Satchels full of grenades can be useful for that sort of thing. The resulting explosion had the additional benefit of killing or wounding another seven FARC troops.

With the initial ten squads effectively halved in strength over a week long period, Colonel Diedericks moved to phase two.

Another ten squads of Cerberus troops entered the area, supported by two of the MAS units. Sixty Cerberus troops, with an additional two hundred from the supporting MAS units quickly tilted the balance again. The same pinpricks took place, but this time with larger scale attacks. Over another week things again escalated.

Andre had been carefully monitoring information from both Meta, and the surrounding departments. Initially FARC movements had been within the department only, now there was definitely FARC combat elements entering Meta from other areas.

He ordered the movement of a third MAS unit and additional Cerberus troops to reinforce the existing force currently engaged in Meta. Mentally flipping through the various defensible areas, he selected an appropriate one. 'Time to draw them into the cauldron...' he thought.

Within the department of Meta, one of the Cerberus units recently committed was that of Sergeant Swart. His squad of six was currently reduced to himself and three wounded. Piet and Robberts were both currently scattered across the trail they had been stalking, having run into a tripwire linked to what he guessed were anti-tank mines. Bastards.

Knowing the direction of the FARC forces, he could guess where the responding forces would likely come from. There was no way any of the other members could move to help. Even with the bandages and battlefield first-aid, it was fifty-fifty if any of them would survive their wounds for another hour.

Loaded to the eyeballs with painkillers, they were lying down, positioned to cover the trail behind a very low wall of dropped packs, as they waited for FARC to come and see what they had caught.

The expected FARC response was why Swart was currently about half a click away from the rest of his squad, crouched silently on a tree branch. He had been here for ten minutes, and was worried that his legs were going to start cramping after his fast sprint and scrambled climb into the tree.

He tried to quiet his breathing, and was rewarded when he heard hissed and whispered discussion below, and a muffled sound of careful footsteps in the undergrowth.

LOTS of footsteps. Shit. They responded faster and with more men than he had hoped for.

He watched a few men pass below him, point men he guessed. Behind them, moving slowly, was a line of FARC troops. Spaced maybe four or five metres apart, the line stretch back nearly a hundred metres. Maybe two dozen in all, including the point men.

Double Shit.

Looking past the last man, in the direction the FARC line had come from, he couldn't see any sign of a rearguard. A crazy idea came to mind. 'Fuck it' he thought 'Going to be dead either way'.

As quietly as he could, he dropped back out of the tree, and leaned his rifle up against the trunk. Unsheathing his blade, he carefully stepped out from the cover of the tree, and made sure he wasn't spotted.

Keeping an eye on his footing and the line up front, he stepped into line with the last man in the FARC force, and softly slithered up to him. His reputation of moving quietly, smoothly, and as deadly as a Black Mamba was about to be proven true once again.

With a hand clamped over the targets mouth, and a strong strike with the blade delivered to his lower back and into the kidneys, another FARC life was snuffed out. Lowering the corpse and making sure no-one had noticed, he slithered forward again, moving to repeat his attack on the next in line.

They were five minutes of slow movement down the trail when the FARC point men reached the area of the mine and the scattered remains of two of his men. They approached with caution, and one turned back to call to the rest of the following men.

His eyes flared wide in surprise, and he opened his mouth to yell a warning, when his head exploded. At least one of the wounded Cerberus squad still had life in them. The other point men dropped into cover, assault rifles being emptied in the vague direction of the Cerberus troops.

At this point Swart was forced to drop any hope of continuing his stealthy string of assassinations, picking up the fallen weapon from his latest victim and praying they had performed at least basic maintenance on the weapon. Swart dropped to one knee, tucked the AK-47 into his shoulder and opened fire along with the other FARC troops, none of which were further than 50 metres away.

'Unfucking believable' he thought 'If I get out of this, I'm going to Vegas'.

It took the FARC troops precious seconds to realise that the incredibly accurate and deadly enemy fire that was cutting them down, was in fact coming from behind them, by which time it was far, far too late.

Carefully aimed three round bursts from the weapon had successfully taken out the remaining nine FARC he could easily see, before it had clicked dry. His hand scrabbled over the corpse, looking for another magazine, when he felt a hammer blow in his chest and shoulder. Darkness claimed him immediately.

It was the end of June when the order came down. All Cerberus and MAS forces currently committed were instructed to pull back to a fortified camp. The final MAS unit and another ten squads of Cerberus troops had been setting up defence positions there for the last week.

Bunkers, trenches, buried supplies, a limited amount of AA and mortars just in case, it was going to be a tough nut for FARC to crack. It was sat in the middle of Los Llanos, a tropical plain, with minimal cover. The various heavy machine guns had a clear field of fire for nearly three kilometres.

The forces out in the field stumbled back into the camp, one by one. Swart and one of his men were actually part of the retreat, bounced along in a Toyota Hilux that had not yet been shot up by FARC forces.

One look at the blood covered near corpses was all it took for a overstretched medic to shake his head, and direct them to the black tent, to the curses of the men who had traveled with the survivors.

The medic shrugged "I'm flat out of miracles. I have a dozen others who I know I can save to look at first, then I'll see."

Swart and his team mate were moved into the Black tent accordingly. The Medic did take the time to give each man a quick injection of an experimental healing aid before he was forced to leave. 'Who knows, maybe a small god owes them a favour' he hopefully thought, before dashing back out to receive the next batch of wounded he needed to triage.

The Cerberus and MAS casualties had been heavy, approaching fifty percent killed and wounded, in this instance wounded meant "totally screwed, no way they can pick up a gun and keep fighting" levels of injury.

Even with the fresh troops in the fire base, they were down to slightly under four hundred available bodies from nearly seven hundred deployed in total. The MAS troopers from the originally committed three units had experienced a brutally darwinian exercise in skill, speed and luck. The slow, unskilled and unlucky were quick to die.

The remaining MAS troops were all veterans many times over now, and were viewed with something approaching respect from Cerberus units that had worked with them.

FARC took it's time encircling the fire base, to allow stragglers into the trap, and also to allow fresh FARC units to arrive and deploy. The initial strength estimated strength of 1500 had been wrong by 50%, on the low side. The surrounding departments had responded strongly. Here was an opportunity to destroy the majority of the existing MAS units, and a good part of those Cerberus fuckers too.

With the additional department forces came a specialist unit that Cerberus had only so far uncovered fragments of evidence regarding their existence, but nothing concrete.

That proof was delivered with a whispering crash from the air, when the initial salvo's of artillery fire impacted the base. Thankfully sparse in numbers, the biggest impact of the light shelling was to the morale of the troops hunkered down in the fire base. FARC had artillery? What next, tanks and air support? Speaking of which where was our air support?

One commander of the surviving MAS units turned to the MAS commander in charge of the fire base, demanding to know the same. MAS airstrikes or Cerberus airstrikes, Armoured support, anything at all - why the hell are we sitting here, are we just waiting to die?!

The deadpan response from the officer in charge quickly shut him down - "Orders are Orders" was all he said. The suddenly nervous questioner didn't miss the way fire base commander's hand hovered over his hip, nor the fact that the holster attached to it was snapped open for quick access. Perhaps best not to ask anymore questions then, right? Time to leave.

Safer outside with the falling shells, than inside with someone who used THAT phrase.

In fairness the artillery was unexpected, surprising, but had been planned for by Cerberus, just in case. Hence the large number of berms, bunkers and trenches. They wouldn't stop a direct hit, but you were protected from anything that was pretty close.

Of course your shelter might collapse on you, bury you alive and you might suffocate instead. Can't have everything.

The loss of a small number of men to the shells was unfortunate. The worst was a direct hit on the makeshift operating theatre.

There were no survivors, the casualties included the majority of the fire base medical staff. That one hurt.

One thing that did make a positive difference to the base morale, was the unexpected recovery of Swart. Two bullets had hit him, puncturing a lung and shattering his shoulder, massive blood loss and infection meant he should have been dead days ago.

Instead he had taken to haunting the base at night, bundled up in layers of Cerberus black, sniping anything that came within a 1000 metres, with deadly accuracy. During the day he could be found in any area that caught the sun, stretched out like a cat or a lizard, soaking up the heat and working on his tan by the looks of things. He refused to acknowledge when artillery exploded near him, no matter how close.

Nerves of steel some said. Suicidal said others. Swart's actions worked wonders at keeping morale up, regardless.

The siege lasted for five days. Several attempts by FARC to infiltrate at night were aborted when casualties reached over 80% for each attempt, mostly thanks to Swart and his nighttime sniper activity.

Daylight assaults were much more successful, but getting closer than the final four or five hundred metres was proving nearly impossible. What limited ammunition was available for the Cerberus  
mortars was used to good effect.

The Colombian army wasn't going to get involved in this brawl for two very good reasons. First, FARC were taking heavy casualties, at zero risk for the army, so lets leave the to keep getting killed thank you very much. The idea of risking their own lives trying to break up a fight that 'someone' was having for them, was, well. Stupid.

The second reason and by far the main reason was simple. Bribery. Several tens of millions of dollars had been dumped into the hands of a number of commanders of both the army and air force. With a simple request - do nothing. Not to help no. Not to set up roadblocks, provide supplies or medical help, no. Just. Do. Nothing.

So they did exactly that.

This all changed on the sixth day, when Colonel Diedericks decided he couldn't hold off any longer.

The kill sack held over 90% of the remaining local FARC forces, and as many as 50 - 60% of the FARC units from the surrounding areas. Estimates were over four THOUSAND FARC soldiers in a seventy kilometre squared area, surrounding a dug-in force that was now outnumbered ten, fifteen to one.

It was as close to perfect as he could get.

At 4am on the sixth day, he made the call. He walked over to a cot in the CP and kicked the leg. "Jan, wake up. Lazy sod, yes you. It's time. Order the Ratels and Rhinos to get moving, and it's time for MAS to commit it's air support. And then call the airfield. Get the Dragon in the air. Don't make me repeat myself".

A few hours later that morning, the initial indicator to the FARC forces that something was terribly wrong was when the world started to explode around them. Literally.

South Africa had been fighting a war against a number of heavily armed guerilla forces for years. While they couldn't directly match the heavier firepower and manpower of enemies such as Cuba and the USSR, they had no such problem with any actual African enemy.

Two weapon systems that had been developed and proven in combat were the Ratel 6-wheeled IFV, and the Rhino 6-wheeled SPG (Self-propelled Gun) artillery unit. The South Africa State President (Botha) had been more than happy to produce and sell additional systems to Cerberus. It kept the cost of their own production down, and provided a significant amount of foreign currency, in cold hard cash of the best sort - high denomination notes of US dollars.

The FARC forces had found themselves engulfed in a horseshoe of enemy light armour, with only a gap to the south and southeast left open. This was the first time most of the FARC light infantry had experienced armoured vehicles racing into the middle of their camps at speeds of 40 or 50 kph, 20mm cannon and machine guns blazing, whilst the Cerberus troops being transported opened fire through firing ports in the sides.

Many FARC troops didn't survive this baptism of fire and steel.

Certain points in the FARC line that had been identified as either command points or supply areas were hammered by slow but powerful 155mm artillery fire from Rhino SPG's. Overhead circled a dozen MAS aircraft, piloted by British, Israeli and South African mercenaries, who were waiting for the signal to drop their bomb loads from recently installed improvised racks.

And circling slowly above them like a shark, waiting patiently, was a solitary C-130 transport aircraft.

It took less than twenty minutes of what could be loosely described as combat, more accurately as 'bloody slaughter' for the various FARC fronts to break and run. Admittedly they had managed to knock out a Ratel here and there, and yes, some Cerberus troops had been wounded or killed. Somewhere around thirty in total. Not even a tenth of the attacking force.

The routing FARC forces left over a thousand dead or injured members on the ground. As the fleeing units were funneled into the gap, the Rhino artillery fire shifted, hitting the rear of the fleeing forces, urging them faster and faster into the funnel.

And then the Rhino's ceased fire. A rolling wall of steel and bullets followed the bloody FARC retreat at a steady pace.

Separated by gaps of around one hundred metres, Ratels chased the FARC stragglers, gunning them down if they fell too far back, moving at a pace little more than a fast walk as they squeezed the FARC units into the deathtrap waiting.

The first of the waiting MAS aircraft now swooped down, three in a row, side by side, flying low and slow over the FARC forces. Some wildly inaccurate bursts of fire aimed at the aircraft failed to achieve anything.

Long silvery canisters tumbled from their aircraft into the seething mass below. The howls of the aircraft were soon drowned out by screams of pain and terror as one by one the canisters ruptured and bathed their targets in liquid fire.

Napalm.

Something many FARC members had heard of, especially from Vietnam, something they never imagined they would see for real.

Certainly not something they were expecting to see drench the people around them, turning them into running, screaming, human bonfires, flesh literally melting off their bones.

A few minutes had passed before the next wave swooped down, targeting areas of the cauldron mouth that had not yet been hit.

Again, a third wave of aircraft descended after waiting for the rolling wave of flame and smoke to clear somewhat, so they could target the remaining FARC forces better.

The final trio of MAS aircraft continued to loiter, they would only be sent in if a substantial new force was spotted in the area.

And now the C-130 transport aircraft descended low, the circling the mouth of the cauldron, waiting for anything that had managed to crawl out of the fires of hell. Stumbling figures identified, beams of light swept out from the aircraft, and where they touched FARC soldiers, those soldiers exploded into chunks of bloody flesh.

Troops could hear a "BRRRRRRR' noise as each beam reached down and touched them. Not a laser, but multiple gatling guns, the AC-130 (Cerberus variation, code name: Dragon) was quite content to circle low and slow, patiently fucking up anything that was trying to escape the sack.

If any of the FARC survivors could have seen the Dragon up close, they would have seen and completely have agreed with the plane's motto, which was painted above and below the side gun ports.

"You can run, but you'll just die tired".

The surviving forces in the fire base were watching in disbelief, exhausted relief and sheer pleasure for many of them. A group of a dozen Ratels had arrived at the fire base shortly after they had pushed the FARC forces past the fire base, and several dozen medics and supply laden soldiers had exited and ran through the perimeter, quickly identifying any who needed prompt medical attention.

A very exhausted but happy MAS commander was stood at the perimeter, keeping this fire base commander company were two other MAS commanders - curiously enough, his fellow survivors from their earlier meeting with Diedericks, nearly a month ago.

The final MAS commander of the group was an unfortunate late casualty, probably from a previously missed FARC sniper. Or that was what his final report was going to say. Maybe if the still cooling corpse had kept his idiot mouth shut about his intentions towards Colonel Diedericks, he wouldn't be lying on the floor, blood slowly pumping from the hole in his head.

Two tired faces looked down at the body of yet another dead MAS commander, then up at his executioner. One shrugged, the other nodded. The fire base commander re-holstered his pistol and stared thoughtfully at the circling Dragon, as it hunted down and played it's part in the extermination of a large part of the forces who had been a threat to his country for over twenty years.

MAS was weak now, compared to how it was a year ago. Half of it's troops were dead or injured. Three quarters of MAS commanders or their second in command's were dead. FARC snipers seemed to pay particular attention to MAS commanders.

Particularly when the MAS unit was part of a joint operation with Cerberus forces against FARC forces. He had certainly noticed your chance of coming out alive if you worked alongside Cerberus was slim to none. Which didn't surprise him.

Cerberus forces had just destroyed what he guessed were half of the remaining FARC forces in Colombia. Given another six months, only tattered fragments would be left. Which again, didn't surprise him.

Cerberus provided all security for the Cartel. The Cartel that could bribe the Colombian armed forces into inactivity, and was a major and powerful economic force in the country. He had no doubt where this war against the FARC was leading.

He looked up again at the bright morning sun, closing his eyes, the luxury of standing in the open and feeling the warmth on his face confirming that yes, he had survived and would live to fight again. At the side of Cerberus, where ever they needed him and the MAS veterans.

Doing whatever needed to be done. For the good of Colombia.

After all, Orders were Orders.


	20. 20 - Happy Birthday

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - I'm NOT DEAD! Apologies for the delay, work has been absolutely hell for the last month (26 hour working days are pretty tiring too. No, not a typo). This chapter is actual a re-write, as in the original version the story twisted in my grasp and headed straight into WWW3. Just goes to show how fragile the balance of power was in the mid and late 80's.

Next chapter will probably be slow to arrive as well, but I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. And now we start to venture down the rabbit hole, AU universe here we come. See if you can spot the new historical event, shouldn't be too hard.

Chapter 20 - Happy Birthday.

June 1988, South Africa.

Whilst Cerberus were busy crushing FARC in Colombia, the tide of war was also changing in South Africa.

Cuba - possibly stung by it's lack of success in Eastern Angola, and the withdrawal of Soviet aid from the struggle, had landed a significant force in Western Angola, with the intention of pushing South-East into South Angola, to cut off the South African forces currently fighting in the country.

Over 15,000 troops, including MIG and SU fighters / ground attack aircraft, both T-55 and T-62 tanks, mobile rocket artillery and attack helicopters. This powerful force, the equivalent of several motor and armour regiments was hammering it's way towards the South African border.

The SA government responded in a number of unexpected ways.

First, they instructed their forces in Eastern Angola to go on the offensive again, to target any Cuban units they identified in preference to local units. Make them bleed.

Second, they ordered the call up of 140,000 reservists, taking a massive hit to their industry by doing so, but also signalling to intelligence analysts around the world how seriously SA was taking this latest foreign intervention. The ANC would soon learn that a significant number of these reservists would be deployed internally to face them.

Third, a request was made to Cerberus to commit additional units to this new front, in particular units that could counter the air support and armoured units of Cuba, and slow down their advance.

Fourth, specific orders were sent to Top Secret artillery units, who were in charge of a number of Jericho II Short Range Ballistic Missile systems, which had been supplied at great cost by Israel. Two of the SRBM's were to be married up with their payloads, and placed in a position of readiness.

Fifth, a back channel diplomatic communication with the US State Department was delivered to the American government, warning them that if Cuba crossed the Angolan border and their troops set foot on South African soil, South Africa would defend itself with ALL weapons at it's disposal.

When asked for a clarification, the response was a blunt "Are you fucking deaf or just stupid? We will use ANY weapon we have to kill them, no matter the cost, so you tell the Russians they better put a leash on their dogs, understand?".

Finally, instructions were issued to a third party, relating to a special and very famous resident of Pollsmoor Prison.

June 1988, Washington, USA.

It was a bit of surprise to many members of a U.S. Senate hearing committee to receive external 'education packs' related to their investigation subject just 2 days before the start of the hearing. They had been subsequently driven to compare notes and make sure this wasn't misinformation. Amongst the points covered were delightful little items such as:

Carbon Dioxide was plant food, more Carbon Dioxide meant more plant growth. Apart from plants providing the basic foodstuffs for over 90% of the world (directly - rice for example, or indirectly such as meat), land based plants also produce 50% of the worlds oxygen supply.

During the Jurassic period, the CO2 levels were 5 times higher than they currently are, and the temperature was 10 degrees (Celsius) warmer on average. This allowed massive vegetation growth, providing a food supply for the dinosaur herbivores, and those that preyed on them.

Greenhouses use a combination of high CO2 and temperature to replicate this effect (but without the giant lizards).

Human population levels before WW2 was 2 billion. Fifty years later, global population is 5 billion. Projected population level for 2030 is 9 billion.

The majority of this future population growth was expected to be in Africa and Asia, as developing nations increasingly industrialised. These developing nations needed cheap power, which would come from fossil fuels, in particular coal.

As the population increases, food and oxygen production must also increase. Any attempt to reduce Carbon Dioxide emissions can been seen as an attempt at Genocide against the entire human race, through the starvation of either food or oxygen.

The information and summary had left several of the politicians scratching their heads, in confusion and concern. Until now.

"Mr Hansen, could you please repeat your last statement?"

"Certainly. It is 99 percent certain that the recent warming trend is not a natural variation but has been caused by a buildup of carbon dioxide and other artificial gases in the atmosphere, and thus the evidence is pretty strong that the greenhouse effect is here" Hansen told the assembled committee.

Silence filed the room.

"This...greenhouse effect. So you are saying it's a bad thing, something we need to be concerned about, and is caused by the increase in Carbon Dioxide levels from industrialisation? Coal plants, car manufacturing and such? And you would be advocating an investigation into reducing CO2 levels, including the curtailing of fossil fuels?".

Hansen nodded vigorously "Absolutely".

The various committee members shifted slightly in their seats and cast glances at each other. The chairman nodded.

"Thank you for your presentation Mr Hansen. We will be in touch if we need additional details".

July 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas.

The conference room had been swept for bugs yet again, and the Cerberus Trio had settled down to discuss the recent developments. Anderson kicked off the discussion, with the international side.

"Fighting against FARC is almost at an end, we should have them reduced to a tenth of their previous peak strength within two months. The local Cartel forces that may have been of concern are eliminated, the majority of the remainder of MAS are actively supporting our operations."

"Oh yes, you know South Africa have requested additional support to deal with the new Cuban force? Well, I want to ship the HSF over there, plus airlift over ground units with man portable anti-armour and anti-air systems, we can stage out of an airport that's a couple of hours drive from the Angolan border, the SA defence force will have transport available."

Jack thought it over. "Will it impact the ability to field anti-Predator units, or Clean Slate?".

Anderson shook his head "No, not at all, the XCOM squads (Shepard sniggered at this) have already been selected and are held at the Hannah site".

Jack nodded in acknowledgement "Very well. It's our best interest to keep the Boers in control of South Africa as long as possible. We are going to need massive amounts of platinum for our projects in the next decade, until we can start space mining. Give them everything they need, including weapons and munitions. Can you project what the impact of this will be to operation Clean Slate?".

Anderson smiled "Colonel Diedericks will be giving a presentation to the Cartel leaders in late August. I expect a change of leadership at be announced accordingly. Replacement leaders, who will be under our command, have been identified from MAS. No requirement for the HSF to be used".

Jack smiled "Good, good, news of the sort I like. Now, just to confirm, Majestic have agreed to my new position as one of the twelve, Shepard and Freeman will have access to Area 51 from next month also. There is a MJ12 team - one of the THREE they have in the US - currently lurking in the east coast area, where they have a 60% prediction of a Predator hunt in the next two months".

Shepard and Anderson nodded. With the current heatwave, the chance of at least one Predator hitting a country with three hundred million people was pretty good.

Jack continued " They will be attempting a capture, which I think is a foolish risk in the US. Organise three...no, six XCOM teams to support. Heavy weapons and Snipers. If they see this thing, put a bullet in it's the head, or blow it the hell up."

Shepard raised a hand. "Speaking of blowing things up, the depth charge you want me to prepare is going to take at least another couple of months. We need to basically rebuild the warheads into a single device, which is capable of descending to a depth of 5000 metres and detonating from a remote signal. So you need to delay the expedition until after then. That side of the world will be moving towards Summer at that time, so it's probably a better time to head out anyway".

Jack smiled "That won't be a problem. Jackman is doing everything he can to delay the start of the expedition himself, I think we need to send Dutch and Anna to have a little...chat...with him."

Jack checked his scribbled list "Hopefully we have stopped the Global Warming fiasco, and can focus on instead on actually feeding people, and providing power to developing nations. We need have countries like China, Brazil and India full developed as soon as possible. We need as big a healthy and educated population pool as we can get"

Jack ticked an item on his list, and circled the next one twice "Cerberus have proven we can get things into space. I will be approaching DARPA to secure a large plot of desert or an island somewhere. We need to start performing fusion reactor trials. With current technology, we are looking at a skyscraper sized test reactor, which isn't acceptable. Suggestions?".

"Japan, or maybe Taiwan" instantly responded Shepard "Japan has a huge nuclear power industry, and is probably the world leader in miniaturisation, plus electronics and robotics. Taiwan is not far behind on the production side of things, and they would leap at the chance of working on a project like that. Both countries would be early users of fusion plants, that's for sure'.

Both men looked at Anderson, who groaned. "Fine, at least send me a list of names to start with, I'll get recruiting. But you'll need to work something out with DARPA or MJ12, as we will have foreign nationals working in Top Secret areas. I don't care how you do it, but I don't want half the alphabet groups suddenly sniffing around. We have enough to deal with in security as it is".

Anderson continued "Speaking of power and security, the Cerberus station launches are still scheduled, but fuel is becoming an issue. Small scale production at our own facilities would provide us with a least some level of supply security. Something you need to raise with the government or Majestic as well?".

"Understood, will do. If anyone starts sniffing around and actually gets somewhere, recruit them. We need all the competent people we can get" said Jack with a smile. He paused, thoughtfully.

"Actually, you can think of it as an practical test for Cerberus Security, an entrance exam, and a way to branch into other countries intelligence services. Now, I also want us to take a look into Magnetic cannons, both for military weapon applications and for use in space launches. Float them as concepts only at this stage, we are going to need AM or Fusion to power things on the scale I want."

Shepard raised a hand "We might want to see what information of use Area 51 can give us first, if anything. Maybe new alloys or power systems? Can you also make sure MJ12 don't get shitty when we pull out recording devices? I want video footage and instrument readings to bring back with us. You realise we haven't actually SEEN one of these things yet?".

Anderson and Jack looked at each other "Damn. We had reports, but that's right. We need to actually look at these things ourselves, see if we recognise them" said Jack "I'll raise it with the council. Make sure they don't mess with you or Freeman".

Jack scribbled another note down. "Very well. Finally, seeing as we had just mentioned him, I need to discuss the latest antics of our resident crazy, Freeman".

Shepard and Anderson groaned quietly. "What did he do now?" asked Shepard.

"Apparently he has gone a bit Doctor Moreau on us, and no, I don't mean Joker. Anderson, were you aware of several medical packages Freeman sent with the combat medic units that were involved in the FARC Colombia operations?" asked Jack.

Anderson thought hard "Nooooo, can't say I heard about that. What was it?".

Jack opened and reached into a briefcase, before dumping an injector gun on the table. "This".

The gun was loaded with a dark red liquid, which seemed to almost glow in the light.

"Is that blood?" asked Shepard, hand hovering over the medical device, but wary of picking it up.

"Oh yes, it's blood, and not just any blood. It's a combination of harvested Predator blood and Freeman's own. First thing, those Predator blood samples that Dutch brought back? Still alive. Freeman was able to encourage the growth of more of that glowing shit from the little bit Dutch had in his canteen. Second thing, did you know that Freeman's blood type was changed when he was sent to this reality?"

Anderson and Shepard shook their heads "No, but then again why would we?" queried Shepard.

"Because I had mine tested afterwards, and it's the same type as his, and definitely not what it was in the future. I suspect you two will also have the same new blood type. I call it blood type U" replied Jack "U for universal. We can give or receive blood with anyone, regardless of what their blood type is. It also stands for Unique. As far as I know, only two people have it, possibly four if you both test positive, on the entire planet."

Shepard picked up the injector and turned it over, watching the thick liquid move "Is it my imagination, or does this stuff shine?".

"Shine? No, it fucking glows. Good luck sticking that into someone who see's it, they'll think it came from a nuclear power plant worker!" joked Anderson, fascinated by the substance. "What's the rest of the story Jack?".

"Freeman left instructions with the medical teams, and I quote - 'This shit is an extremely illegal and highly experimental drug which would probably kill anyone it was injected into, BUT. There was a slim chance it would actually save people, so if you have any combat cases that you are 100% sure are going to die, give them a shot of this and pray. Oh, and it costs a million bucks an injection, so don't fucking lose it or waste it. Let me know if it works, and if it does how trippy it makes the test subject feel. Have fun!'".

Shepard sniggered and Anderson face-palmed. "Yeah, that sounds like Freeman. Can't believe he did this shit without alerting me. Those are my people. Think I'm going to break his nose next time I see him. I hope we got them all back if they actually cost that much each - what were the results, did they use any, and if so, did any of them work?" asked Anderson.

Jack smiled, reached into the briefcase and pulled out a one page report, which he slid between Anderson and Shepard. They bent their heads and started to read.

"SWART?!" exploded Anderson, as Shepard hung his head and shook it in frustration.

Jack nodded "Exactly. The miracle recovery, also known as the Shadow after his nighttime sniping sessions. I want him extracted from Colombia and back here as soon as you can. We need some samples and tests. And no, I don't want him cut up into little pieces. This is the new Cerberus, more efficient and humane than the old one. Hopefully."

July 1988, Moscow, USSR.

It was a private meeting between the head of the KGB and the Soviet Defence minister that would have terrified Western governments, if they had known what was being discussed.

"Room is clear" confirmed Vladimir Kryuchkov "I had it scanned again just thirty minutes ago. Anyone who tried to bug the KGB's office is just asking for a one-way ticket to Siberia."

Dmitry Yazov grunted and sat down in the indicated chair. "We can speak plainly then, yes?".

Vlad nodded "The economy?" he asked.

Dmitry looked as though he was sucking on a lemon "YES. The fucking idiot has no idea what he just did. Relax the controls on the economy. Less regulation. Allow market forces and competition. Does he think this is America? We have a country of people who have been told what to do and what to believe for the last fifty years. Now he wants to reveal how badly the economy is fucked to the world. They think we are pulling out of Africa and Asia because of pressure from the UN and being nice, not because we can't afford the supplies and wages anymore! The West is going to piss itself laughing!"

Vlad watched the increasingly red faced officer with interest, choosing to ignore the peasant level profanity "are you thinking it is time to remove the problem then? Replace him with one of ours?".

Dmitry slumped into his chair, very unusual for a man who normally rigid military posture. "Can't" he grunted in response.

"If we need to launch a first strike on America, we need to lull them. The bald fucker is doing everything but lubing himself up and bending over for an ass-fucking from the West. They love him."

Vlad nodded thoughtfully "I understand the initial stages have been completed, but have not progressed any further, and will not until we see how their next president acts?".

Dmitry waved a hand "Our comrades in the Navy have managed to not fuck that up, which makes a change considering how many of our submarines they manage to sink themselves. The cargo ships have been loaded with the missiles for the EMP launches. The shipping containers with their devices have been assembled, and will be delivered to every target port globally as required. And your side?".

Vlad smirked "Mr Forsyth would be shocked if he knew how close his book followed reality. The packages are being prepared for delivery to agents in a number of cities. Also, we are confirming which deep cover assets are still available in America with flight experience and access. There should be enough to deliver the chemical weapons as planned. Which just leaves the Star Wars problem".

Dmitry suddenly relaxed "THAT little problem will be going away soon. Bursan will be launching on it's test flight in a couple of months, and the replacement Polyus weapon will be the cargo. Let's see how Cerberus likes it when someone shoves a megawatt of laser up the ass of their shiny new space toy".

July 1988, Pollsmoor Prison, Cape Town, South Africa.

The rattle of a key in the lock of the ground floor cell door quickly woke the prisoner. It was pitch black outside, though there was faint light coming through the cell door window. "Get that fucking door open" the prisoner heard harshly whispered on the other side. 'Is this it? Was it my time?' thought one of the most famous prisoners in the world.

The lock clicked and the metal door swung open, allowing the dull light of a weak torch to wash over his form, forcing him to throw up a hand to block out the glare in his eyes, still adjusting to the light.

He focused briefly on the shadowy image of a man dressed in some sort of black military uniform and armour, who was stood in the open doorway.

"Nelson Mandela?" queried the figure in a broad English accent.

"Yes, I am Nelson Mandela. How can I help you?" responded Nelson, levering himself upright from from the bed.

"Happy fucking 70th birthday nig-nog" said the voice, and he raised his arm, revealing the silenced pistol that he had kept held at his side, but was now aimed directly at Nelson's forehead. The man pulled the trigger repeatedly.

There were six quiet 'chuffs' from the weapon, and then the black armoured figure holstered it, drew his blade and stepped forward with a smile on his face. 'What a fucking line, that's going to earn me a few pints in the re-telling' Sergeant Cooper thought, as he set to work slitting his latest victims throat.

July 1988, Angola.

Cerberus troops had been landing the previous week, and had then been transported North to the battle lines. A grand total of six hundred had been sent, which seemed stupid considering they were outnumber between twenty and thirty to one.

None of the Cerberus squads were stupid though, far from it. Most used civilian off-road transport to get closer to the Cuban forces. A combination of random mortar attacks, sniping and ambushes with anti-armour weapons was bleeding the oncoming armoured column, but it certainly wasn't going to be enough to stop them.

Still, the Cubans were struggling to keep their speed up. Every wave of missiles forced the Cubans to honour the threat of each ambush.

The Cerberus assaults had kept casualties light, and had slowed a fast column to a slow but steady approach. Attempts by Cuban air support, both fixed wing and rotor to clear the way ahead of the column had proved expensive for the Cubans, as the countryside seemed to sprout man portable AA systems. Cerberus had no issues with shipping in several cargo planes full of the damned things, and supplying them to SADF units too.

Cerberus had bought enough time for the SADF to form and deploy two infantry regiments from the reserves, supported by Olifant tank companies. The SADF Rhino (SP) artillery units were also in the area to provide support, battle lines had been drawn up.

The Ondangwa airport was a critical logistic hub. Last major airport, road and rail link before the Angolan border - or the first on the Namibia side of the border, depending on how you viewed it. Whichever side could hold the airport had a good chance of winning the new battle early, for in modern warfare in particular, logistics was king. No fuel? No tanks. No shells? No artillery. No bullets? Back to using knives.

The Cerberus units had been pulled back to Walvis Bay, where they would be able to unload the armour that had just been shipped BACK from Colombia. With a little luck, they would be able to unload it, fix it (it was absolutely going to have something broken in the sea trip), resupply and then tear hell for leather up the highway to support the fight in Angola, to the NW of Ondangwa.

The initial main fighting in Angola started a little more than 24 hours after the HSF armour finally landed at Walvis Bay, Cerberus units tore into the vehicles one after the other. A decision was made to dump any unit that couldn't be confirmed as acceptable after 15 minutes of clean up and testing.

The South African produced vehicles proved themselves yet again, as over 90% of the armour was deemed acceptable. Refuelling and munition resupply was completed, and the Cerberus forces then crashed out for six hours sleep/downtime, ready for the high speed run back north.

Morale was high for both sides of the battle in Angola, which raged non-stop for a week. Cuban air power should have been a game winner, but Cerberus provided AA systems clawed jet after jet out of the air.

Cuban armour learned the hard way that fast and mobile infantry units with effective long range anti-armour systems were not to be ignored in the wide dusty plains of Southern Angola. The return of the Cerberus units, now mounted in their HSF vehicles, provided a welcome boost to the under-equipped SA units.

In the end, it did come down to logistics. Cuban forces were at the end of a multi-thousand mile long supply chain, their opponents a tenth of that. Without the Soviet supplies and support they were expecting, the Cuban units soon found themselves struggling to perform even the most basic of operations.

Low on fuel, munitions and with supply units being ravaged by Cerberus deep strikes, they slowly began to realise that this was a fight they were not going to win, not with their current forces and supply situation. The Cuban general in command was loath to report this back to Havana though. He  
liked being alive.

August 1988, XCOM-1, Texas, USA.

"It's a hole. A very big, deep, wide hole. But still, a hole. Why am I stood at the edge of a hole?".

Charles Jackman turned to look at Dutch and Anna, raising an eyebrow. Behind him was the future site of the initial planned XCOM base. Work crews were swarming the area. Roving Cerberus patrols could be seen circling the perimeter.

Dutch turned an icy glare upon Jackman "You have been delaying the Point Nemo expedition for weeks. It's going to be a six month job as it is. I convinced Anderson to give you an opportunity to explain your reasons. If you can't explain adequately to us, then we turn you over to someone who is VERY eager to get his hands on you."

Jackman smiled, apparently totally relaxed, though his mind was racing at a million miles a second "Well, wouldn't be the first time I've had a bit more slap than tickle from a relationship. Harper I assume?".

Dutch watched Jackman's face closely, and knew they had him hooked at Anna's casual rejoinder "Oh no, Freeman. He needs a new test subject for some sort of devils brew he's cooked up". The slight paling to Jackman's skin and fractional widening of the eye was enough. Jackman was obviously getting information from somewhere that most Cerberus employees didn't have access too. He recognised EXACTLY what was being suggested.

Jackman turned back to face the hole, face turned thoughtful. "Still doesn't explain the hole. But I'll admit it, I've been delaying the expedition. I've made a lot of contacts in my years in the business, both military and government. You hear stories. Hell, I've supplied a few of those stories myself. And Point Nemo is not somewhere you take a ship. I can't really supply concrete details, secrecy acts and Non Disclosure Agreements and all that, so...well. Bad Things happen to ships in that area. You just don't hear about it. Ever."

Jackman paused. "We tell everyone we are going to Point Nemo, to see what life has developed in a part of the world that is pretty much untouched by Mankind. As far away from land as you can get, no reason for planes or ships to be there. Internally, we are going to the area to hunt for R'lyeh, to see if there is anything of substance to the writings of Lovecraft and his fellow Mythos writers. Do you really think we are the first?".

He felt a heavy hand rest on his right shoulder as Dutch stepped up alongside him, looking into the hole. A warm left arm curled around his waist as Anna stepped up and take a position on Jackman's other side.

Dutch sighed. "I have had men torn to shreds in front of my eyes. Both Anna and I have been covered in the blood of the fallen as invisible alien creatures have butchered their targets. Freeman is bat-shit crazy as apparently he has fought his way through an alien invasion of some sort of black-ops secret government research facility. Both Shepard and Anderson have fought alien creatures that you just would not believe could exist. Including one's that are VERY similar to the description of what sleeps in R'lyeh."

Anna spoke quietly "My research shows the Predator creatures have been hunting us for thousands of years. The writings and carvings of ancient civilisations around the world support this. They exist, we know it, we have seen and fought them. Jack knows, that's part of why Cerberus was founded. This hole? The foundation for a secret base, the first of many, to fight these invaders, these Predators. But we need to know if that is the only thing we face. So...R'lyeh."

Silence stretched out for minutes before Jackman broke.

"It was in the Imperial War Museum. An old crate, Japanese artifacts recovered from the fighting in Borneo at the end of World War Two. Some native items of potential interest the paperwork said. The items were carved figures, from a black stone. Each one had the appearance of a squid like creature, or a cuttlefish type creature. At the time, the thing that popped to mind was the Kraken. There were Japanese notes with the artifacts, faded after being boxed up for more than thirty years, but still readable. I got them translated."

"The translator asked me if this was a joke. The notes claimed the artifacts found were over 20,000 years old. That the stone they were carved from was actually meteoric iron. That the silver orb was a link to a Kaiju that slept in the most isolated part of the oceans, and they hoped to control it, to sink the Allied invasion fleet."

"There was no Orb with the crate. I had no idea if it was some sort of a joke, but I raised it with one of my old contacts in the Royal Navy, some monster living in the most isolated part of the ocean. He laughed and said the RN wasn't interested in hunting Cthulhu, though it sounded like something the Germans would have done in WW2".

"I dug deeper. The Thule society, and it's hunt for ancient artifacts, the belief that alien technology was out there, ripe for the plucking. I made polite inquiries through my US and Japanese connections, about Kaiju, and was laughed at, said I had watched too much Godzilla. And then MI6 got in touch."

"They showed me several reports, dated over the last sixty years. Ships that had been swept into the Point Nemo area due to mysterious currents, dragged hundreds of miles off course within a day. Submarines that patrolled close to the area that reported SOMETHING moving around down there. All discounted as rock slides or lava venting. Cultural references from islands and coastal areas in a circle three thousand miles in diameter, centered around Point Nemo, with the same ancient horror stories, the same Kraken creature. Polite notes from several governments telling England to stop me poking around, or they would shut me up themselves".

"They asked me to join your team. Find out what Cerberus was up to. Are you a threat to the peace? An unknowing innocent? Or are you looking into the darkness to hunt what lives there? If you wander into Point Nemo with your eyes shut, pretty sure we won't be coming home. And I like my body and soul just the way they are, thank you very much".

Dutch chuckled "Shepard is building a multi-megaton house warming present for Cthulhu, just in case, so a little of A, a little of C. Good. I hoped there was a solid reason for your fear, and we share it. Next week, we return to England. You'll introduce us to MI6, and we will dig the museum archives a little more. I will suggest to Harper we talk to the Japanese as well, at least one group over there knows about the Predators. In a few months, we will set sail for this mysterious Kaiju."

Anna quietly spoke "I just hope we don't wake it up, nuke it and it then decides to visit Tokyo for breakfast." 


	21. 21 - Vigilance Confidence

Disclaimer: This story is written purely for entertainment, I own nothing and definitely am not getting any money for this!

Any references to games, movies, books owned by someone else are exactly that - owned by someone else, not me. No disrespect intended towards any real people mentioned in this story, living or deceased.

Authors Note - Thank you everyone for your reviews, both positive and negative. I always knew the last chapter would be controversial. I wish farewell to all who have stopped reading (though obviously you won't get this message, but still, the thought is there), and congratulations to everyone who has the intestinal fortitude to hang in there.

Interestingly enough, the outright slaughter of thousands, racist language and attitudes, rape, war crimes, pre-meditated

murder and support of Drug Cartels and the full blown support of the apartheid regime caused not an eye to be blinked. Gank Nelson Mandela and throw a wrench in the Global Warming machine before it gets going, and it generates the most outraged responses yet.

The Cerberus trio are from the FUTURE. They know what is coming, including (as was previously mentioned), the South African Civil war and Ebola plague, and the outcome of the whole Global Warming / Climate Change movement (which I am assuming would have become a damp squib in their future, but not before causing significant waste of resources and time, and delaying humanity's development). And yes, Mandela would have been explained this chapter regardless of requests received.

We are getting closer and closer to time skip land, which I am grateful for. The important pieces are pretty much all in place. Onward!

Chapter 21 - Vigilance. Confidence.

August 1988, Cerberus Security, Texas.

Anderson sat at his desk, rubbing his temples with his fingers. The headache was not shifting.

In front of him were a newspaper, and the latest Cerberus report from South Africa.

"MANDELA DEAD" roared the newspaper headlines. The article continued it's reporting with sparse details. The 70 year old had been reported as having been suffering from his tuberculosis, and had passed away peacefully in his sleep on the night of his 70th birthday.

The South African government statement pointed out that even though Mandela was co-founder of a terrorist organisation, he had served his life sentence with dignity and had been a model prisoner.

Condolences from world leaders and numerous organisations were being reported worldwide in a six page spread.

In direct contrast was the Cerberus report. He skipped past the Cuban combat action reports, down to the internal reports.

The ANC organisation was being ripped to shreds, thousands of the recently called up reservists were literally storming buildings flagged as ANC linked property, and were rounding up everyone in the buildings and shooting anyone that resisted.

There had been several deaths of white officials, all linked to (unsuccessful) negotiations with Mandela. And then there was the report from one of his more effective killers, who had 'successfully eliminated the high profile target NM as instructed by higher command. Happy Birthday.'

If there had been any Cerberus involvement in the death of Mandela, he needed to know. And there was only one person who could issue an order he wouldn't know about, one person other than him that all of his units knew to obey.

Jack.

With a trembling hand, he picked up the phone and requested an urgent meeting with Harper, striving to keep the rage out of his voice.

August 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas.

Anderson walked into Jacks office two hours later and ignored the greeting, turning to ensure the door was closed and locked. He then dropped the paper and the section of the Cerberus report from Cooper onto the desk.

"Anderson?" quizzed Jack, looking puzzled at the report and newspaper and then back up to Anderson.

"Read that report JACK, and then look me in the eye" coldly demanded Anderson.

Jack picked it up and skimmed through it. He glanced at the newspaper headlines and look at Anderson, eyebrow cocked.

"Did you instruct local Cerberus assets to execute Nelson Mandela. Yes or No." bit out Anderson through gritted teeth.

Looking straight into his eyes, Jack responded. "Absolutely".

The next second Jack was reeling back in his seat, blood pouring from his mouth that had just exploded from Anderson's fist.

"That felt right. Now, explain to me why I shouldn't put a bullet in you" snarled Anderson.

Jack pulled a cloth from his pocket and wedged it under his lips to soak the blood.

"Reapers. The extinction of humanity. The continued extermination of all intelligent life every fifty thousand years. ONE CHANCE to stop it. You want to be the man who failed to save trillions of lives when he had the chance? Go ahead, pull the trigger".

Anderson wilted slightly, then shook his head "I get that. God, you really are as big a bastard now as you were before. but WHY? Why him? I know my history, he was a beacon of hope in a dark time for Africa, so why?".

Jack looked at Anderson, obviously weighing his thoughts. He picked up the phone and instructed his PA to cancel all meetings for the day, reached into his drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka and two tumblers.

"Sit. Drink."

Whilst Jack poured out two very healthy measures, Anderson, after some internal conflict, pulled back a chair and dropped into it with a grunt.

"Mandela was one of the best. He would have dragged South Africa back into the international community. Brought hope. And that was the problem. Once he was gone, when he dies, you would have had a kleptocracy in charge of 70% of the worlds platinum production. The corruption would have led to a civil war which would have raged for five years, before the Ebola plague swept through and turned the country into a graveyard. We, as in Cerberus, and humanity as a whole, can't afford  
that."

Jack took a sip of his vodka, face scrunched in pain as the liquid burnt into his lips.

"I may have spoken to Botha. Pointed out that Cuban and Soviet support for the various organisations they are fighting against was on the verge of disappearing. That Cerberus fully supported their government, as long as they keep producing the strategic metals, especially the platinum. That Cerberus would be looking at a major space program, and South Africa was perfect, IF they had stability. And that the ANC needed to be dismantled."

"Including their most famous figurehead and leader, who was currently in prison. Don't get me wrong, he would have been a great president, but would also have been indirectly responsible for fifty million deaths. More than Stalin and Hitler combined."

Anderson wiped a hand across his face, removing the wetness from his cheeks "But why us? Why did it have to be someone from Cerberus? And how did you choose who would pull the trigger?".

"Two words. Plausible deniability. Botha will be able to confirm he ordered actions against ANC, but never against Mandela. I read the reports from South Africa as well Anderson, and have spoken to Cooper's commander. He's a very disturbed man, has absolutely no regard for human life, and considers anyone with less than white skin, to be less than human.

He is also an exceptional killer, with no ties to South Africa, and had zero qualms about his mission. He has been instructed to keep his mouth SHUT, as there are millions of people who would kill him if they found out what he did."

Jack shrugged. "Look, in three hundred years time, if we WIN against the Reapers, feel free to put a bullet in me. Until then, I will do anything - ANYTHING - that I see as necessary to achieve that goal. Shepard still has flashes of morality when it comes to civilians, but from a military perspective is willing to sacrifice anyone to achieve the goal. I wouldn't expect less from the Butcher, from the man who sacrificed a human fleet to save the council, who took a ship and his crew on a suicide mission."

"You though? I have concerns Anderson. He was just one man. The needs of the many - in this case, the GALAXY, will ALWAYS outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. I did what was needed. So I want you to drink the rest of that tumbler of vodka, and then head back to Security and have a long hard think, and ask yourself - could you have done the same? And if not, does that make you a better or worse person than me?".

August 1988, Cuernavaca Ranch, Colombia.

It was the very rarest of gatherings, all of the heads of the Medellín Cartel and most of their seconds under one roof.

With them were the Cerberus head of local security, Captain Anton 'Benito' Mussolini, and his hand picked men. There were over a hundred Cerberus troops guarding the building, and another two hundred securing the local area.

The meeting had been called by Colonel Diedericks, along with Commander Carlos Gil of the recently reorganised MAS.

Diedericks, with support from Gil, had confirmed the anti-FARC operation had been completed. The 'revolutionary' organisation now numbered less than a thousand it was estimated, which would take years to hunt down and exterminate.

The smiles and clapping from the assembled drug lords lasted for a few seconds. The Cerberus and MAS officers walked backwards as soon as they had finished their report, and without any warning, the stationed Cerberus guards drew silenced pistols and opened fire on their assigned target.

The withering fire lasted for four or five seconds, before Anton issued a ceasefire command.

It was done. The Medellín Cartel had been executed. The Cerberus and MAS officers drew pistols and moved through the Cartel corpses, methodically putting two bullets into the head of each one, to be absolutely sure.

Weapons holstered, the Cerberus officers turned to Gil, the MAS commander who had accompanied them, and offered their hands.

"You stood with me against FARC" said Diedericks "And you stood with us against the Cartel. Cerberus will be seizing the assets of the leaders, but the contract we have still stands. Fifty percent of all profit will be assigned to Cerberus, the rest? Up to you."

Anton nodded and spoke "Harper, our highest commander, has suggested a strong investment into infrastructure. health care, education and job creation. Spend the drug money on building up areas the government ignores. If the other Cartels give you shit, Cerberus will drop an army here."

Gil looked at the corpses of his countrymen, and spat on them. "Whatever is good for Colombia, whatever it takes" he said, and shook the offered hands.

"It was a pleasure to finally eliminate this scum" commented Anton, "And after all..."

All three completed the oft said saying with a chuckle "Orders are Orders!".

August 1988, Area-51, Top-Secret location! Okay, fine. Nevada.

Shepard and Freeman walked through the sixth guard point and sixth set of steel pressure doors.

"You know" commented Freeman, shifting the large duffle bag he was carrying from one shoulder to the other "It's almost like they take security seriously here. I'm just surprised we haven't been take off to side rooms for a bit of full body cavity action.".

Shepard slapped a hand across Freeman's chest, getting a startled grunt in return. "For gods sake Freeman, please do NOT give them any ideas!".

The large room in front of them held desks, various electronic equipment, half a dozen USAF security, and two men in lab coats. One stepped forward with a clipboard, obviously about to start a long lecture, but was stopped in his tracks by a raised hand from Freeman.

"Blah blah shut it. We have authorisation from the head of everything. We know these fucking things exist, and have our own collection of bits, we now want to see what you have. Me Crazy Genius. Him Mad Skillz Engineer. And yes, we have permission to record, and even remove shit if we deem it necessary. If you want, call anyone, including POTUS, and ask if we are allowed to do this shit. Right Shep, what first - bodies or bits?".

Keeping an eye on the slack jawed lab technicians and security personnel, Shepard dropped his own bag onto a desk and pulled out a pair of video cameras, handing one to Freeman.

"Bodies. Lets get a look at the physique of these aliens before we take a look at their engineering. Oh, and you might want to avoid Anderson for a while. He wants you and his fist to have a chat about some random medical experiments on nearly dead security personnel?".

Freeman paused in his response, casting an eye over the security guards and lab coat wearing human statues. "Meh. He'll have to find me first. Air vents and a crowbar will get me anywhere." He fired up the recorder and panned it across the others in the room

"This is Dr Freeman recording live for the Smoking Gun, where we expose the TRUTH behind the alien conspiracy coverup to the world. You, Airman...Edwards. How long have you been part of the Illumanati New World Order? OW!".

Freeman turned an offended look at Shepard, who was rubbing his hand after slapping the back of Freeman's head. "Quit messing with them. I don't want to get accidentally shot whilst they are trying to nail you."

"Uhhh..the bodies are through here." offered Edwards, indicating the door behind him, and swiping his card on the lock, which beeped, flashed green, and the door lock disengaged with a clunk.

"You know, I haven't seen a dead alien in months, not since I killed that Elder God back in crazy land. Normally I would say the only good alien is a dead one, but I think we need to capture some live ones for vivisec...Mother Of God."

Freeman and Shepard followed Edwards into the room, recording as they went, straight into the sight of multiple glass tubes filling the room. Suspended inside the tubes were body parts, partial corpses and what looked like a fully intact head and torso. Judging from the bits, the creatures in the tanks would be over seven foot tall on average.

Freeman skipped up and down the tubes, recording as he went "Ugly, Ugly, Ugly. That's a hell of a set of toenails. Is that a lung? Looks like a lung. Well, at least I can't smell them. Shepard? Earth to Shep? Wakey Wakey?".

Freeman walked back and stood next to Shepard, who had the camera he was carrying locked onto the mostly intact torso and head, but was just stood there, presumably staring at it.

"What's it saying to you Shepard, huh? Can you hear it? Does it want to suck out your brains, and wear your rib cage as a hat?" whispered Freeman.

"They were much smaller in my Cycle..." muttered Shepard "We need a sample, one of these tubes, an arm, or a leg. The rest can stay here."

Shepard turned to Edwards "And where are the recovered equipment and materials?".

"Through the doors at the end, we have to have another security pass though to get in" Edwards looked at one of the lab coats that were lurking, who jerked his head in a nod and walked down to the far end of the hall, taking position on the left hand side of the doors, as Edwards walked to the right.

"On one. Four, three, two, one" said Edwards, and both swiped their cards at the same time, both lights turning green.

The doors pulled apart, revealing a ramp down into a high ceiling, wide and long room. Numerous glass domed tables stretched down the length of the room, each containing fragments of metal or technology.

"Nothing organic is kept here, and most of the items are under a nitrogen atmosphere to prevent corrosion, which are what the the domes are for. The largest parts of the crashed ships are right at the back" explained the Lab Technician as he walked through the room with Shepard and Freeman, who continued to pan the cameras back and forth as they walked.

"You recovered some of the blade weapons, right? Is the ship structure made of the same material, or something else?" asked Freeman with interest.

"Oh, it's something else, mostly super dense titanium and steel, with a little carbon nano-tubing thrown in there. We might be able to make something like it in twenty or thirty years, but it'll be a hell of an expensive alloy." confirmed the Lab Tech. "is there something in particular you were after?".

Shepard and Freeman looked at each other. "Dude" explained Freeman "This is alien tech, we want everything. But to start with, I'm going to just see what you guys have managed to salvage. Shepard needs...uh...engines?".

"Engines, and power supply" confirmed Shepard, staring towards the end of the hall with hunger.

"Ohhh-kay. Whelp, good look with those, we've managed no significant progress with them in the last thirty or so years..."

The Technician and Shepard drifted further down the hall, leaving a quietly cackling Freeman to search the accumulated artifacts for his new test materials.

August 1988, Cerberus Logistics, Texas.

"What happened to you?" asked Shepard, eyeing the bruising and split lip that Jack was wearing.

"FUCK! OW! OW! STOP HITTING ME!"

"That" responded Jack smugly, nodding to the corner of the briefing room, where Anderson had Freeman in a headlock and and was alternately punching him in the face, or ramming his head into the wall.

"YOU WILL NOT FUCK WITH MY MEN!" Anderson roared, and in a normal voice continued "are we clear?".

"YES!" was the muffled response from Freeman, upon which Anderson released him.

"Seriously Gordon. It was a good idea, but you need to talk to me first before you do shit like that. What if it unleashed some messed up plague, or turned the ones who were injected into alien zombies or something? You were the only one who knew about these injector tests until Jack found out."

Gordon looked at the others and dropped his head, in a sheepish voice he admitted "Okay, feeling embarrassed now. Didn't consider that. I did use it on a bunch of mice first, and got about a 5% survival rate from ones that should have been corpses. I figured two birds with one stone right? Human trials, and might actually save someones life".

Jack spoke up in response "Whilst I admire the goal, Anderson is correct. We could have drummed up a dozen people who were on the verge of death and offered them a chance, with appropriate legal waivers and monitoring. Still, we have a confirmed case of one miracle recovery."

"Swart has currently undergoing a battery of tests. So far, no major adverse impact. His body temperature is running a bit warmer than norm, he feels the cold more, and a bit more light sensitive."

"Apart from the obvious advantage of NOT being dead, he also seems to have slightly improved night vision, endurance and strength. Nothing like superman or anything obvious, but he confirmed he FEELS healthier and stronger."

Jack absently poked at his sore lip, wincing "in fact, I would go as far to say, you have developed a bastard version of medi-gel. Unfortunately the supply would be massively limited, and the fact it has only been used in terminal cases means we don't know if the injection itself is potentially fatal".

"Okay, that term obviously means something to you three, and I can guess from the name and conversational context what it probably is, but what do you mean by Medi-Gel?" queried Freeman.

"One of humanity's most important future contributions to the galaxy. Technically illegal, as it is classed as a gene or bio modification, the gel heals everyone, keeping even massive trauma under control, until the body can heal it. The healing speed and capability of the body itself is also accelerated by another aspect of the gel. And amazingly, it's universal, regardless of..."

Shepard paused "Race, species or blood type, even works on synthetics and machines...how the hell is that possible?".

"Space magic" affirmed Anderson with a straight face "you know, I knew that glowing stuff reminded me of something. If you have ever seen medi-gel that has gone seriously past it's expiry date? Starts to look a bit like what Freeman cooked up".

Jack sat down at the conference table, drumming his fingers on the smooth wood. "if it turns out that Freeman has accidentally invented medi-gel, I'm going to be seriously pissed. That may mean in some shape or form, Sirta Foundation had access to Predator remains".

Shepard dropped into a chair opposite "that brings me to what we found in 51, that Predator remains access is not as unlikely as you might think. I've got the feed from the camera loaded, watch the screen." Freeman and Anderson quickly seated themselves.

Shepard fast forwarded past the initial meeting with the guards, and played the section where they encountered the body parts.

"Okay, take a good look at the head and face. If you knew nothing else, that would remind you of a Turian more than anything right, mostly because of the mouth?". Anderson and Jack nodded.

"Well it's not. It's a Yahg. It's a Yahg from some point in the last sixty thousand years, that someone has been genetically fucking with, uplifting them. If I had to make a bet, I would say Protheans or one of the the other races from that Cycle. It looks very, VERY similar to memories that Javik shared with me. Note the height and muscular build. These things were already very strong and fast before someone got their claws into them."

"Yahg..." murmured Jack "I take it the Shadow Broker you fought was NOT one of these Predator types?".

"Nope, that one was one of the big types, bigger than a Krogan. But if a Yahg could take over the role of the most powerful information brokers in the galaxy, that shows they are potentially very intelligent. Hell, one of the last reports of their home world was they were edging toward spaceflight as a species. This from a species that still has a rule of 'you keep what you kill'." answered Shepard.

"Wait what? You mean the MediGel magic stuff is made up of Predator-Yahg? No way, that's just stupid" exclaimed Freeman.

"Stupid? Don't know about that, but it was definitely a strange product. I mean, it works on everything - how? If it's basic building block is something from an alien race, instead of something whipped up in a lab designed specifically for humans, that would make a little more sense. And if P-Yahgs have the same level of healing as Krogan, that would also explain what the stuff is so effective." noted Anderson.

"No more injecting people Freeman. But we are definitely going to be putting your discovery through testing and production. This could be the basis for Cerberus to corner the medical industry, in the next 15 or 20 years. Now, moving on. Anderson, Colombia?" Jack stated.

"Total success. Cerberus has recovered a goldmine from the Cartel leadership, well in the excess of 100 Billion dollars. We also have a projected average income of a billion dollars a month, as long as we can keep operations at the current level or higher, and no significant cost increases. The new Cartel head has asked for us to start looking at eliminating the competition. He also floated the idea of working WITH elements in the governments, both Colombia and US."

Jack froze. "Totally didn't see that one coming. Yes on the competition elimination, maybe on the Colombian government approach, absolutely not on the US side, at least not yet. Bush will be president soon, so we need to see how the new administration acts. And South Africa?".

"...with the loss of Nelson Mandela as a rallying point, the crushing of the majority of the ANC organisation within South Africa itself, the withdrawal of Soviet support from the border states, and finally the failure of the latest Cuban campaign, the apartheid government has a level of security that was unthinkable just a few years ago. In no small part thanks to our support." reported Anderson sourly.

Freeman shrugged "So the same dicks are in charge now as were 20 years ago. We get our money, well, platinum, and maybe the country gets a chance to be stable for a change. I remember hearing on the news that the entire place was going down the toilet before the Black Mesa invasion. Black majority rule meant the whites fled in huge numbers, mostly the skilled people who they really needed to keep the economy going! What about from your future?".

Shepard looked at him "it really, REALLY wasn't pretty. Half of the continent was a graveyard by 2050 thanks to repeated plagues. The only way external aid could get in there, was if there was a significant armed force guarding them. South Africa was one of the hardest hit. They were busy shooting each other, then they got hammered by plague, then the survivors went back to shooting each other, another plague, you get the idea. Wasn't until the security council of the time ordered an invasion, sorry, peacekeeping force that things got under control again in Africa as a whole".

Jack looked at Anderson's stone face "What's done is done. We can't change the past, but we sure as hell can change the future. Cerberus already has a lot of political capital with the Afrikaner government and the political and military side due to our Security support. The economic side love us for the sanction busting. If we invest more heavily into the country, we can operate there with a large degree of independence, and can influence things our way. Anderson, what do you think to an XCOM facility there?".

"What? We haven't even completed the US facility!".

Jack waved a hand at the paused TV screen, which still had the Predator torso and head displayed. "These aliens aren't going anywhere right now, but I am concerned if we respond too slowly, in too limited a fashion, we won't be able to have the global impact and support I need."

Jack continued "If we have a facility in Colombia, South Africa, England, Texas, Japan and Russia, we can cover the majority of the globe, have bases in three of the five UN Security council members, with hopefully corresponding Cerberus influence. The Graser testing has revealed design issues which means an orbital system will be delayed at least a year, but no reason why we can't use the Cerberus Freedom station for Predator incursion detection, correct?"

"Uhhh...wait - what design issues? I think I would know if there was a design issue?" asked Shepard.

Jack sighed and pressed the palm of his hand over his eyes "There are NO design issues. We are just telling the military that to stretch out the contract. If we design, produce and deliver the weapons too early, we lose out on billions of funding. MJ12 will bury the paper trail, but we will use a large part of that money to fund XCOM."

Jack paused. "Or whatever the new organisation is called when it is established".

Shepard's mouth stretched in a silent "Oh", whilst Freeman sniggered "Well, someone is still swimming in that Egyptian river. And yeah, we used to do it all the time. Shove some shit code into a program, and then when they want to work more efficiently, take half the dodgy stuff out. Instant improvement!

"Same goes for most government studies. They pay you to find out if local water quality is impacting health. You find out what the study requester wants to see, angle the study result to support what the want to prove, and then claim you can get better results - if you had time for a longer study, with more funding. Sucking on the teat of government funding is awesome". Freeman ended his statement with a big happy grin, and a little bounce in his chair.

Jack eyed Freeman with distaste "Not how I would have phrased it, but effectively how the system works. We had an update from Anna and Dutch. We are waiting on some additional proof from England, but the evidence is stacking up heavily towards a Reaper or Leviathan in the Point Nemo area. Which concerns me immensely. Nothing from my memories, intra-net or anything suggests there was something on our planet already."

He looked at Shepard and Anderson who shook heads in confirmation that they too were in the dark.

Jack nodded. "Right. Well, we are not making the same mistakes as I made back in the future."

Everyone paused for a second as they processed that one.

"Shepard. Get the depth charge ready, we will use two DSV's, one to explore, one with the nuke. If we find nothing or just ruins, fine. If we find a Reaper or Leviathan, nuke it. I don't care if it seems to be dead, you know how dangerous even dormant Reapers can be."

Shepard nodded agreement, as did Anderson.

Shepard spoke "I got a chance to look at the drive and power systems of the recovered Predator wreck, and we ran a couple of quick tests on material we brought back. There isn't much to work with at all, but I can produce a likely scenario. The ship suffered some sort of engine failure, probably containment, which resulted in an explosion, which was partially shielded."

He looked towards Freeman, and continued "We think the drive is Anti-Matter based, with fusion reactors for internal power. I do NOT think they use a mass-effect drive system, but this was only a small ship, a shuttle almost. BUT, they definitely use Anti-Mass material in their construction materials, and that material is definitely Eezo. Running a charge through it adjusts the mass."

Freeman chipped in "Which means we can absolutely design something to scan the area for this Eezo, definitely from the Freedom station, a local version will be more problematic. I would love to design things using the new alloy, but supply is pretty non-existent."

Jack shook his head "we have to avoid developing and depending on Eezo based tech if we can. It would constrain our development. I am sure we can develop enough to be ahead of the majority of human development in the field, but it needs to be just one aspect of our overall advancement. There is no way we can build tens of thousands of ships if we use Eezo, certainly not ships on a size scale I imagine we will need."

Anderson stroked his chin "What about duplicating their drive system and power system? If it's based of Anti-Matter and Fusion, we can develop those, right? Freeman has experience and knowledge on one side, Shepard on the other?".

Shepard looked at him "Unless you count exploding Yummy Mechs or messing with the Omega reactor control panels, I don't really have Fusion reactor experience. But I have the knowledge absolutely. Goes back to a scale issue. Any reactor we make at this point is going to be huge. As for AM, Gordon, what do you think?".

Freeman pondered it briefly, before answering seriously "Yes and no. We can generate the AM, but we can't contain it at the moment. We need a magnetic containment cylinder, pretty much the same as the fusion reactor, and again it would be scale. You might as well create an Orion drive intergalactic spaceship, it would be smaller and cheaper."

Jack looked like someone had announced they had just finished drowning his puppies.

"For the love of...Jack, we have been back a couple of years! What do you expect, Nano-Tech replicators and Dimensional Drive systems? I'm cludging together unique tools with my knowledge to make other unique tools. We are already working on stuff that is twenty, thirty years ahead of the timeline, aiming at technology that is two HUNDRED years ahead!" shouted Shepard.

"Ditto. But as far as this XCOM thing goes, you guys don't need spaceships yet, you need fighters and transports that can find and catch the Predator shuttles, down them and then get troops into them to kill everything that moves. So here is a suggestion from my memories." said Freeman "What do you guys know about Russian Ayaks project?".

August 1988, Boston, USA.

"Bravo Team, no contact".

Jones sipped on his coffee, as his teams checked in again. So far the Boston posting had been boring as hell, which was good. Considering as the alternate was mind numbing terror, lots of gunfire and explosions, and his probable dismemberment and death by a seven foot tall invisible fucking ALIEN.

"Charlie Team, no contact".

The teams had been positioned for a week now. They moved and set up in a new site each day, monitored during the night. The MJ12 team had set up cameras monitoring three possible locations where they could ambush the Predator (if one turned up).

He had seen them lurking around, all silver armour and elephant-level dart guns and stun guns. Apparently the silver armour would block the vision of the Predator, it used an infrared system (and how the hell they knew that, they weren't saying).

"Delta Team, no contact".

Seeing as he knew a Predator had survived a volley of rockets, heavy machine gun fire and a pretty impressive impact into a security fence with minimal wounds (at least from the blood trail), how the hell they thought pissy knockout darts and stun guns would work he had NO idea.

"Echo Team, no contact".

And knockout darts? Seriously? On an Alien? What if it just got high? Or turned Beserk? Or mutated into fucking Godzilla?

"Foxtrot Team, no contact. Wait."

Wait?

"Foxtrot Team, you ahhhhhh...you might want to try checking in with the tinfoil soldiers".

Jones picked up a different radio and tried to raise the MJ12 team, but with no response. Turning to the Cerberus net, he queried Foxtrot Team.

"Alpha Actual. Does anyone have visual on the tinfoil's?"

"Foxtrot Team. Roger that, and we need a cleanup on aisle twelve. I don't think the tinfoil's are coming home."

Jones paused. Well, fuck. "All units, unsafe and check your positions NOW. Leave the channels open. If someone gets attacked, at least we will hear...".

It was a very tense fifteen minutes before Jones had all teams check in again. No issues.

"Foxtrot here. We need to bug out. Sorry to say, but someone must have called 9-1-1, as two cruisers just pulled up, and are checking out the bodies. Oh yeah, just like Greece, the officers are tossing their cookies. Guessing someone snagged a few trophies."

Jones confirmed to all teams to start extraction, and picked up the phone. He needed to report a potential security breach. The local PD was going to be asking some very awkward questions soon, and it needed to be stepped on, HARD.

The day Dutch came up with some equipment that allowed them to actively hunt these things, could not come soon enough.

August 1988, MJ12 Council, USA.

"So as you can see" continued Jack "My plan has the risk of resulting in significant collateral damage, but potential rewards are staggering".

The silence from around the table dragged on for nearly a minute.

"To confirm your proposals...You want a significant uninhabited isolated location to test Fusion Reactors and Anti-Matter containment. Not necessarily in CONUS"

"You want to establish five new XCOM bases throughout the world, including in the USSR."

"You want to set up the new space station as a Predator scanner".

"You have access to NUCLEAR WEAPONS, which is pretty big bombshell in itself, and are possibly going to be be detonating one in the South Pacific, in the next six months, but won't tell us why".

"You want to talk to the Russians and Japanese, bring them fully into XCOM, and develop new attack and transport aircraft to take down as many of the Predators and their vessels as we can in a concerted attack, even if it might result in massive civilian casualties."

"This operation, to be cleared with multiple world leaders before being launched, and once launched to be effectively in the public eye, and labelled as defending against an alien invasion".

"Does that summarise everything?".

Jack smiled like a shark "Absolutely. Oh, and don't forget the fact that you just lost a significant percentage of your field agents on a TOTALLY useless ambush, and nearly handed proof of everything to the press with your latest failed operation."

"Time to stop thinking small and local. What happens if part of DC goes up in a nuclear fireball? Or Moscow? We NEED to have Russia, I mean the USSR involved at the ABSOLUTE minimum. We need their research for starters, plus they. And to not be nuking each other when things go wrong. And they will go wrong, things always do."

The other eleven members exploded into animated discussion, furious anger from some parties, and the debate rolled on for nearly an hour. Every time it devolved into arguing over minor details, Jack dragged their attention back to the bigger view. It was Global. It would only take a few things to go wrong, the way things currently stood, for WWW3 to be triggered. R&D should be combined with other countries under threat. And the world HAD to be brought into the truth.

"Let's face it, information control is getting more difficult by the day. Hiding this from the public is going to be highly unlikely, especially when nuclear fireballs start erupting. The world has been in a state of semi-terror for the last forty years, expecting the US and USSR to bring about the end of humanity."

"So we need to show everyone that humanity is NOT alone, and the aliens are not nice cuddly E.T. types. Have all of that Cold War mentality shift to a REAL enemy. And get details to the press and people on how we have been working together for years to fight this threat. And make sure you stamp on anyone who starts pushing the 'need to open a dialogue' angle."

In the end, grudgingly and with reservations in some cases, agreement was secured.

"Mr Harper, we will open talks with our Russian and Japanese equivalents. Please have Cerberus focus on the areas you feel best able to make rapid progress in, and identify areas we need to bring in outside expertise for. Funding will be arranged accordingly, and Cerberus reimbursed for all expenditure to date."

"Details will need to be thrashed out, but at this point we have agreement to proceed on all points. Do you by any chance have a name for the new international umbrella organisation we will be forging?".

The seriousness of the situation was totally destroyed by the outright grins on a number of faces. They knew the mental dance Jack had been doing to avoid the 'temporary' label already in use.

With the world's biggest sigh, but with a smile twitching at his lips, Jack answered "It's official I guess. XCOM". 


End file.
